Revenant
by brokenredbird
Summary: Sam's return shakes her family to it's core. Nikolas is struggling for control over his family's legacy. Knows Sam could overthrow him given the chance. Kristina feels hopeless and Molly is in a state of confusion about what she wants out of life. A new doctor with a hidden past starts the night shift, while a drunken Lucky runs from his demon while chasing a serial killer.
1. Chapter 1

WELCOME HOME, PRINCESS

For many years our people lived, and for many years they blended in with the dull fleeting beings that took up residence here. Our blood built up this country and our blood will eventually tear it down. Cursed...we are, but also blessed, as my cousin would say. We're immune to disease, to mortality, and to yearning. Well...that last one is a lie. We do crave something : life. We desire it more than sex. Even more than love. It keeps us satiated. Which keeps the masses alive. We're stronger than we look, some more than others. Our bloodline is of royalty. We have always craved power, sought it out, and took it as our own. Then with our hands and our sacred blood, we built an empire. Royal we are, but to keep it we must fight for it. Cursed by our own blood to walk this earth forever with each other. No one can love a Cassadine, but a Cassadine. And no one can hate a Cassadine as much as a Cassadine. We live and breathe death, destruction, and chaos. Walking plagues we are to this earth. Some of us love it. Thrive off of it. Then there are some of us, so innocent and pure, this life is complete Hell. Children of Apollyon, we we're destined to destroy this world. Centuries and centuries the Cassadines have lived, procreated, and for many more we will continue. We have just entered the Modern Black War, with Cassadine against Cassadine. A dark time we are in. A time where death is more certain than that of new life. Blood will be spilled…..just hopefully not mine.

Many many centuries ago

He was feared, he was great, but sadly he was a second born. One trapped behind that of his brother's shadow. He was heir to nothing more than a title: Prince Vladimir Cassadine. No power. No armies. Men would follow him into battle if needed be, but no men truly would as long as his brother, Sandor Cassadine, was breathing. They lived and died, by that of the honorable tsar Sandor. Someone Vladimir grew to loathe despite their blood ties. He was irate. Cursed. How could it be that the gods gave him such a fate worse than death. Second borns, mainly known as lowborns, were saw as lesser beings. Especially if they were the same sex as their older sibling. Spares, we are! Nothing, but disposable parts of a larger vessel. That would soon change. When people heard his name they would tremble, and the earth would quake at his step. On command he would control one of Russia's largest and most powerful armies. He would be GREAT.

Present Day

The sky darkened quickly. Enormous thick gray clouds took shape in the sky. Blotting out what little sunlight they had. Sam stared up at the now dismal sky above. Sadden a bit by it. It always rained when someone died. Granted, rain was pretty common there, but in this case it would be her grandfather, Mikkos, who passed. The old man finally croaked. Chaos would soon ensue. Sam was sure of it.

She lit the cigarette she held in her hand. Inhaling it a bit. The air was cold and everything else was damp. Here on the Isle of Skye, her own little paradise of exclusion and solitude. She wanted to laugh. She had been sent here at the mere age of eighteen for simply trusting the wrong person. Barred from her home. Taken away from her family. Ten years. It had been ten goddamn years. She was older of course. Maybe not much wiser, but she knew one thing for sure. Life just got a whole lot interesting for her.

She removed the thick wool sweater she had thrown on to trudge outside to meet the morning sun. To her disappointment she was met with rain and gray skies. Nevertheless it was still a great day. She stood atop of the rocky cliffs bare to bottom, with nothing but a pair of dark brown hiking boots. Her nipples harden instantly feeling the cold air against her skin. She loved the prickly sharp sensation that rode it's way up her thighs over her stomach up to her neck. It was like breathing that first big gulp of air after almost drowning. Life being restored back into your body. Simple pleasures like this had made Sam more grateful for life, but inside her sat a coldness no fire could warm. It lived within her, eating at the slightest feeling of joy. Sitting deep in the back of her chest, like a reminder. It was always there and had grew with time. She would never again lose herself the way she did all those years ago.

Without a another thought she plunged head first off the edge of the cliff. Straight into the depths below. The rush was even more thrilling each time she did it.

Hello, uncle.

Sam beamed with delight at the rotting corpse that sat below the surface. The wire she used to strangle her uncle Stavros was still imbedded into the slowly deteriorating flaps of skin. She was mesmerized by how slow it took for him to turn to bone. He had been under the water since her first night here and yet he still looked somewhat feasible. Well...excluding his eye sockets. She had dug the tips of her thumbs into them and tore his eyes out of his head. Sam held her thumb up to his face. Sizing the large open wound on both side. Remarkable, she thought.

He was waiting as soon as she was done with her swim. "Alfred?" She couldn't believed what she was seeing. "What are you doing here?" She wondered out loud. Then turned to her Watcher, Mrs. Hurst, who was silent. She looked at Sam for second, letting her eyes wander over Sam's face. She looked sentimental and sad, which wasn't like her at all. "What's going on?" Sam asked,shaking her a bit. Hoping she would come to her senses. Mrs. H pulled herself together and hardened her face. Looking as every bit of the unbending impenetrable force, Sam knew her to be. Mrs. H was like a mother to her. She had been with Sam her entire life, watching over her and making sure no harm would come to her. She even willingly chose to leave with her. Leave all she knew behind for the girl she never birthed. Sam trusted her more than anybody. "Alfred's come to take you home." She said slowly, making sure Sam heard her clearly. Sam was bemused. "What?" She asked in disbelief. "You're exile has been lifted with Mikkos' death. You can go home now."

Port Charles, New York

Spoon Island

The rain poured down like an onslaught. Beating against his windowpane so hard Nikolas almost mistaken it for the devil himself. He opened the doors to his balcony, letting in the storm. The unruly wind blew rain against his smooth flat tanned chest and face. Drenching him in a matter of minutes. "I fear no man or being. I'm invincible." He spoke into the heart of the storm. Laughing as more and more water sprayed his face. He was loving every bit of it. With his grandfather dead, his father nowhere to be found, and his treacherous cousin exiled to an island far across the world he was the next in line. This was his time. Finally.

Stirring from behind caught his attention. "You coming back to bed?" She asked, walking up behind him. Her hands immediately found their way to his chest. She loved every inch of his godlike exterior. He loved being worshipped. As he should. He was a God, an immoral one, but still one. He felt no pity for those below him. He was a being meant to be look upon and praised for their beauty, power, and strength. He wasn't being overly confident. He was just being honest. "No. I'm not, but we can do so much more right here." She bit her lip in anticipation. "Like what?" She whispered, letting the raging storm conceal her words. He ran his hand over her angelic brown skin and through her thick curls. Grabbing a handful of her hair, he yanked her head back. She winced at the pain it caused, but also smirked from the searing pain it caused. He had never found someone that enjoyed pain as much as him. Well, outside of his family that is. He lowered her body with simply just the tug of her hair. "Get on your knees." He commanded, while she complied. Her light brown eyes stayed on him as she did. "Yes, my Lord." She purred, getting on her knees. Her mouth instantly latched onto his already erect dick. Using her hand to keep it steady she licked the base and then the head. Biting on it hard enough to draw blood. Nikolas groaned and shook from the ecstasy it brought him. She drunk the blood she spilled. Licking her lips to make sure she got it all. Her mouth moved over his dick with ease. The pleasure she brought him was immense. The very sight of them by the opened balcony, with the storm raging on around them must be a envious sight for the gods. Something he took great pleasure in.

Kristina stared at the exquisite ring placed on her wedding finger. She loved it. It was a cushion cut 3 carat black diamond. Something she longed for since she was a little girl. She had many dreams of this day, her Bacchanalia, her wedding, and her life after. It was all she knew. All she was raised to know as Natasha Cassadine's second daughter. Second born…..lowborn. Nothing more. Now that she had it she still felt incomplete. Something didn't feel right. It wasn't the ring. She absolutely adored it. Could it be the man that gave her the ring? She shook her head quickly. Not wasting a single despairing thought on it. Of course not. Phillip was great. He had a title, he had money, and he knew of her family. He accepted them. Which was always better than the alternative. Then why did a girl who had everything she wanted still feel like her world was falling apart?

Dinner was ready, and everyone gathered around to sit. They each stood behind their chair, paying respect to a fallen Cassadine. "Mikkos, was a wonderful husband and father." Helena started. You could tell by her clenched jaw and tighten grip on her champagne glass, that she was livid. "He loved all his children, some more than others though. He lived a great life with many accomplishments. May his soul rest in the Nether." They all raised their glasses in honor.

"Oh, give it a rest. Mikkos' soul will only know peace in between the legs of one of his mistresses. I bet the old son of a bitch is face full of some Romani pussy as we speak." Irina said, gulping down her drink. When it was depleted she beckoned their maid for a refill. "Oh how we missed your sense of humor, Irina." Helena said sarcastically, as she took a sip of her champagne. Helena didn't waste anytime and took her seat. The rest of them followed. "I'm sure you did. This house is such a sad shadow of its former days. That's more of a tragedy than of Mikkos keeling over. Which of course I'm glad to bear witness to." Irina droned on. Kristina and Molly knew it was best to keep silent. Irina led the prestigious Covenant, a very well known group that use to dedicatedly follow Apollyon. Now they use it as a front to do charity work all across the work, while still using their influence and power to do Apollyon's bidding. By joining would mean to give up meaningless ties that would bound you. No children you could bear. No marriages you could have. The Covenant had been around for centuries and they were the same people who punished Molly and Kristina's eldest sister to Coventry for her betrayal.

Kristina obviously didn't want to join in on such an agreement, but her baby sister Molly did. It was all she talked about since she got closer to her 18th birthday. With her being sixteen she still had time to truly decide whether that path is the one she wanted to take. If she chose to, she would have to stand judgment. Which neither Molly or Kristina knew what that meant.

"Don't you ever shut up, Irina?" Nikolas said, finally getting fed up with her incessant chattering. He threw his napkin down and waved his hand for the idle maid to clear his plate. "You came hear for what? We all know of your dislike for Mikkos. As if he's somehow to blame for you being a bastard." As soon as he said it the whole table became unease. That was the one thing that could set Irina off. She lived with that title everyday of her life and somehow to hear it was like an alarm going off inside her head.

Irina immediately stopped talking and straighten her back. Glaring directly at Nikolas. "I mean the old man still gave you his name and accepted you as his own. That's more than his brother, your real father, Victor, ever did." Nikolas said smirking, while taking a sip of his wine. The air in the room was thick with tension. Stefan raised a hand to stop what they all knew had started. Helena just sat back in her chair and watched. Tickled by how marvelous her grandson turned out. He was the best choice to lead this family, far better than his father or his weak uncle. "Father, stay out of this." Molly whispered to Stefan, who gently shook her arm off of his. He stood, though mute, trying to calm both sides when a slick silver dagger flew across the table. The dagger pierced Stefan's neck, causing a sheet of blood to spray the table and all its occupants. Soundless screams came from Stefan as he fell to the ground. "Daddy!" Molly screamed, falling to her knees beside him. Kristina slowly, with less dramatics, came to his side as well. Pulling the dagger from his neck without blinking. "You would stab your king." Nikolas stated with laughter. He wasn't surprised by Irina's volatile behavior, she was infamous for it. Irina rolled her eyes and scoffed. "Modern terms are for children, Nikolas. I also don't see any "kings" here. Just a petulant little boy, craving power and attention. Pathetic." Irina seethed. Nikolas smiled with delight. "Better that, than some feral bitch with no claim or title. Bastard." Nikolas hissed, making sure to push every button he knew he could. Irina knew what he was doing, but couldn't help the rage that warmed her blood and pushed her to strike him. Instead she held back and stood. Knowing what her assault against a future ruler of their family would get her and the loss of her hands was too great of a risk. "Coming mother? I have some things to discuss with you." Irina said, moving away from the table. She didn't look in either of their direction and spoke over her shoulder. Her long pale blonde hair fell down her back. She was tall and lean. Almost reminding many of a Valkyrie. Her beauty was also a well known fact.

"Of course my child." Helena followed her steps, but before they could leave Nikolas stopped them. "Irina?" He called her name, which halted her steps. "You ever try that little knife trick again I will rip your heart from out of your chest and then set that beautiful hair of yours on fire. So that when we present you on your funeral pyre, you'll be the nothing more than the joke you already are. You're dismissed." Irina, with nostrils flared, stormed from the dining hall. Helena slowly followed behind. Comforted by her daughter's lack of restraint. Knowing it would one day get her killed.

Nikolas looked down at his uncle and got up from his seat. "The funeral is tomorrow. Make sure he's well dressed and prepared." Without a second glance Nikolas was gone from the room. Leaving Kristina, a bleeding Stefan, and a distraught Molly behind.

The Floating Rib

The air was thick with smoke, while music gently played in the background. Something slow so the masses could grind against each other. Rubbing their bodies together as one. He walked through the crowd. Trying to find a seat at the bar. Which thankfully he was able to and to his surprise next to one of the most sexiest woman he had ever seen.

"I'm Dr. Patrick Drake." He introduced himself immediately upon sitting. "And you?" The woman swung her ebony curls to the side to stare up at him. "A doctor, huh? Can you cure me?" She said, staring deep into his were as a black as night. Something hidden just within them. Something mysterious. He liked it. "I can cure all diseases and ailments. What are you suffering from?" He asked, letting his eyes roll over her tight little body. "Death. How can you save me doctor?" She whispered into his ear. Letting her tongue slide up the edge of it. His eyelids shut and he felt himself harden almost instantly. "I've got an elixir that can cure the dying and bring back the dead. Would you like me to show you?"

The blue neon sign from outside showered the little motel room with its hue. She rose from him, bathed in the blue shade. Slowly she rode his dick letting her bare breast rise and lower with each movement. She bit her lip as she rode him faster and harder. A groan escaped his lips with the tightening of her walls around his dick. His hands grasped at her body. Squeezing her hips to move with her, in sync. Her large breasts bounced as he slammed his dick harder inside her. Sweat poured down the middle of them, rolling over her stomach and onto his. She slid off his dick, climbing to his face. Sitting upon a throne made of flesh. His tongue tasted her sweet warm juices that his dick was once in. Hungrily eating at the savory tastes her pussy bestowed upon him. While his face was full, she clenched onto the headboard. Eyes completely black and mouth wide open salivating, hungry for something more than the head of his enlarged dick. No, her hunger was coming from a place of depravity. One she could no longer keep at bay.

Port Charles Police Department

Lucky sat in front of his desk going through the files one by one. Numerous murders of young men and women had struck Port Charles, his home, for the past few years. The cases were overlooked for some time because each one was a single act that happened over an extended period of time. No more than three murders occurred within the same year. Now he sat in from of five different cases of brutal homicides that happened all in the last week. One body was burned, two others had their eyes ripped from their heads, another was torn apart not by steel or machine, but by human hands. The last one was a twenty-three year old female, who was heading home from work. She was split in half. Cut up from her crotch through her abdomen. She was still alive when the crime happened. Lucky closed every single file in front of him. No longer able to read the words. He grabbed the flask from underneath the pile on his desk and took a swig. Not caring whether any of his fellow brothers or sisters in blue saw. This job wasn't for the weak. It took its toll on each and every one of them, so they looked past his occasional drink. Even if it no longer was every once in awhile. He had slowly, but surely become addicted to the taste and smell of hard alcohol. Waking up to it and needing it to soothe him to sleep. He was able to keep his family unaware of this problem, but it was becoming harder to mask with each passing day.

Hands fell over his shoulders, wrapping around his neck. "You coming home tonight?" Maya asked, looking down at what was before him. Lucky removed the files from her eyesight. Not wanting her to see what gruesome injustice was waiting for the people of Port Charles. "Of course." He replied, getting his things together. Maya, though, couldn't stop thinking about what she read: Is this the work of a serial killer or of THEM. Who were "them"?

"You coming, babe?" Lucky said, snapping Maya out of her thoughts. She shook away what she had read and smiled. Grasping his hand as they walked out of the PCPD together.

Two hours later. . .

Cloaked in black he stood in the shadows just outside the PCPD, waiting patiently. Time was of no importance. He would be here until she came out. To his surprise she got off earlier than he expected. It was 2am and she came out of the building. She waved goodbye to some friends as she walked toward her car. He followed. She could feel the eyes of someone on her and turned accordingly, met with nothing, but the chill of the night and the smell of more rain to come. She continued to her car. Getting her keys out. Never seeing when the man in black struck her from behind.


	2. Chapter 2

HOME IS WHERE THE BLOOD IS

"Did you see how she was at dinner tonight? And you want to be like her." Kristina said, shaking her head in disgust. Molly sighed, as she sat crossed leg on Krissy's bed. "I didn't say I wanted to be like her. I…..I just want to find my place in this madness." Molly exhaled, falling backwards on Kristina's lavender bedspread. Kristina released her hair from the confines of the bun it was in. She stared at Molly through her mirror. Feeling some pity for her baby sister. "Why on earth would you ever want to find your place in this family? You should be more like me and trying to escape. And definitely less like them. Find a fiancé and get the hell out of this dilapidated house. Or else you'll find yourself entombed in its walls." Kristina said, as she started to brush out the knots in her hair. Absentmindedly rubbing her engagement ring with her thumb. Molly sat up. "Who are the "them" you're referring to?" Molly knew exactly who Kristina was talking about, but for some reason wanted to hear her say it. As if hearing their names helped ease whatever pain she didn't realize she had for their absence. Kristina rolled her eyes and turned to face her younger sister. "Our whore mother and her favorite daughter."

Nine Years Ago

On the island of Santorini, a small council gathered, the Covenant. A prestigious sacred group they were. Passing out laws and handing down verdicts, as if they were gods. Stood before them was a silent, but confident Natasha Cassadine, their blood. They stared down at the crimes she had committed and back up at her. "You callously stand before us unrepentant for the crimes you've willfully committed while also seeking our mercy?" Reuben, the leader, spoke first. His fiery black eyes were fixed on Alexis. He had always wanted to see the Americas division of the Cassadines fall, as if his blood was more noble than theirs because his half of the Cassadines stayed in Greece. Oh, how pathetic and outdated he was.

The Cassadines were made up of three divisions, the Greek, the Russian, and the New World. We all tie back to Russia, but broke off to explore, which caused a fraction in our family that to this day has yet to repair.

We each hated the other, believing we were somehow better. The New Worlders believed they were better for being brave enough to take the risk and explore what others didn't dare to. The Greek, for settling in such a rich and historical place that birth the gods. And the Russian, for starting it all. Three sides of a triangle. Each side pitted against the other. Watching and willing the other to fall.

"I stand before you, my family, as not repentant because I, Natasha Cassadine, did nothing wrong." Her words caused an uproar. Nikolas sat behind her in a state of shock at her unyielding approach. When in reality he sat behind her covering his own crimes. "How could you be so brash about what you did, Natasha?" Sacha, another member asked. A woman, Natasha greatly admired so much so she names her her firstborn daughter after her. "I stand here to admit my crimes. I did try to overthrow the succession of my family's lineage and put my daughter on the throne. As she is the most powerful of her generation. She is the most rightful heir. The promised one. Yet I'm the only one to say it." Alexis didn't fear them like they so wanted her to. She stood strong and firm. Not ever letting them see her break. She knew that most of them believed in what she was saying, but were too afraid to outright say it themselves. Too fearful to go against an ancient law as if their ancestors would pull themselves from the depths of Hell to torment and punished them for such a heinous action. She rolled her eyes at the mere thought. "Then you will suffer the consequences."

Bedchamber of Stefan Cassadine

Stefan jumped from his sleep. His bed was soaked with sweat. He reached for her like he normally did when it got like this, but as always she was nothing more than a longing memory. One he couldn't relinquish, even in his dreams. He missed her everyday. His beautiful sister, Natasha. Even though she never truly loved him the same way.

Their relationship, of course taboo to the mundane world, was actually more common in their family. Cousins wed cousins. Nieces and uncles. It was a way they kept their bloodline untainted, but no one ever in Cassadine history became betrothed to a sibling. It was….unheard of and somewhat unfathomable. Their father was flat out against it. More so because Stefan was engaged to a Russian princess and Natasha was promised to a duke. What a scandal it was when their father caught them stark naked, fucking each other against the hard rock wall inside one of the many tunnels they had running throughout their home on Cassadine Island. It was his Bacchanalia and he had missed out on the first dance with princess Alyona. So as usual his father tracked him down. He just wasn't prepared for what he found.

Stefan laughed at the memory of Mikkos' face. Today was the day they would be burying his father. He should feel something for such an occasion, but he didn't. His heart was as empty as his mouth. He had lost all respect for his father the day he let his favorite grandson cut out his tongue. That day, staring into his his father's dark eyes, he no longer saw the grumpy old patriarch he grew to care for, but a docile deluded stranger. He learned that day that even a Cassadine could betray a Cassadine. Which was actually quite funny since Cassadines were notorious for it. He just had to experience it firsthand for himself.

Blue Moon Motel

(Just on the outskirts of town)

He had awoken to an empty bed and terrible hangover. She of course had disappeared into the night. He couldn't tell if she was a dream or not. Beautiful olive skin, long cascading ebony locks, breasts that would make any woman envious and any man fall to his knees. A voice like honey and a pussy so sweet you would kill to taste. There was no other explanation. She had to be a figment of his imagination. Conjured from his most wildest desires. Either way she was fuckin' amazing.

Patrick got himself up and out of bed. Preparing himself for his tour of General Hospital. He would be working the night shift, but wanted to get a feel of the place during the day. Dr. Quartermaine was kind enough to oblige.

He stood inside the shower with the mask on. Inhaling the nitrous oxide he had connected from the canister containing it to his mask. The mask featured a long curved beak, like that of a bird. A weird little thing it was, but somehow fascinating to him. The chemicals reached him instantaneously. His head flung back hitting the tile wall inside the shower. The feeling was out of this world. His mind felt clearer than ever and more alert. When really everything was moving in slow motion. His heart was racing and he could feel it. Every powerful movement within him, it was as if it was going to fall right out of his chest. The pounding of it was so loud it filled the inside of his head. He covered his ears trying to drown out the noise. Then as quickly as it came it went. The high was gone and with it the euphoria, but the rush always took a minute or two to wear off. He removed the mask and breathed in the fresh air of his steamy bathroom. Feeling lightheaded and a bit jittery. Also in a much better mood than before.

Patrick met up with Dr. Quartermaine at the nurses' station. He was tall and lean, with a quizzical look upon his face. He was fumbling with some papers when Patrick walked up. Patrick was surprised. The guy that stood before him couldn't be no older than twenty-five. "Hello, Dr. Drake. I'm Dr. Michael Quartermaine. I'll be giving you the tour of GH." Patrick took Michael's extended hand, gingerly shaking it. He didn't want to insult the kid, but… "You were expecting someone much older." Michael laughed, as the tour began. Patrick scratched the back of his head and cracked a smile. "Well, yeah. Kind of." Patrick admitted. The kid seemed competent enough, so that was a good sign. Something was off though. "You'll be meeting my cousin Maya, who's a bit older than me, soon. She works in the ER so you'll be seeing her a lot more than me." Michael said, opening the door to their first stop. The Intensive Care Unit.

PCPD

(Crime Scene)

The yellow tape decorated the outside of the building. Reminding Lucky of low hanging party streamers. He couldn't even speak to what he found. The corpse of a fellow deputy...his cousin, Valerie. Her body was suspended from a tree branch. Dangling like a puppet on wires. Her arms and legs broken, her uniform torn from her body, and her head...her head was missing. Decapitated.

Lucky had to looked away. It was as if he was staring directly into the sun and the rays begin to burn his eyes. It was that painful. He couldn't tell his sister. The two were just becoming close. They only knew Valerie for a year, but she was a Spencer. She was family. The drink was necessary. He knew no one would blame him for it. It's like they expected of him. "I'm taking you off the case." Lucky spun around so fast he almost loss his balance and fell. "What?" Lucky said, coming face to face with his commissioner, Mac Scorpio. Mac shook his head at the sight of Lucky. "You're too close to this case. Your cousin has just been murdered, Lucky." Moving in closer so only Lucky could hear, Mac whispered, "and you're pissed drunk just like your father." Lucky didn't even think. His arm swung faster than he could stop it, hitting Mac square in the jaw. "Fuck you!" Lucky shouted, causing the entire force to move in closer. A dead silence fell around them. Mac stared disapprovingly at him and waved off medical attention. Lucky looked around at the familiar faces of his brothers and sisters. They too looked disappointed and slightly embarrassed. How did things get this bad, they all wondered. "Lucky, calm down." Nathan, his newest partner said. Lucky swatted at his hands. "Don't touch me! I'm fine! Why are you all looking at me like that? I'M FINE!" The louder he said it the more they knew he was wrong. "Look at my cousin! Awww man. Look at her." Lucky cried, falling to his knees. He was spiraling. No longer able to control the alcohol. Tears fell from his eyes freely. He couldn't stop them or the outbursts that came from him. "I'm the best goddamn detective the PCPD ever had! You can't shit on me! I work my ass off day in and day out for this department. And this is how you treat a fellow brother in blue?" Lucky yelled, wagging his finger in the faces of so many staring on at the scene unfolding. "Lucky!" The voice caused him to falter. He looked to see the face of his fiancée, Maya. "What are you doing?" She stepped through the yellow tape, pushing her way through the crowd around him. "Maya, babe, what are you doing here?" He asked, happy to see her. He knew she wouldn't betray him like the others. "I heard about Valerie. I'm here for you." She said, tears filling her eyes as she stared at the state of the man she loved. Lucky wiped away his own tears when watching her cry. "Go home, Lucky." Mac said, holding an icepack to his face. Lucky turned from Maya to face Mac. "Shut up, Mac! You don't get to order me around anymore." Lucky threw down his flask and walked away from the crime scene. Walking straight over to Maya. "Let's get out of here, okay?" Maya nodded at his request and they both walked away from the horror behind, but before they got too far Maya looked over her shoulder. Seeing the body of the fallen officer. It was truly a horrific sight to see. One she would never forget.

Spoon Island

"Today we put to rest a fallen Cassadine. Mikkos." the Reverend intoned to the very large group that came for the burial. They stood outside on the island's beach. The waves were rough as a storm approached, and the winds were intense. Most of the guests came from all over, just to see the old man burn. Most looked bored, others waited patiently for the pyre, but almost everyone was hungry. "He lived a rigorous, accomplished, blissful life. One we'll never forget." the Reverend continued. Most had already tuned him out. Not hearing a word he said. Everything he was fed to say about the great Mikkos was fictitiously constructed to give the man something to say. Everyone here knew the real Mikkos. He lived a dull wasteful life inside his delusions. Nothing great was done or said by the man wrapped in our family's colors; bronze and black. This day wasn't for remembrance, but of absolvement for Nikolas. He finally felt free to lead the Cassadines into a new era. One where his mistakes weren't constantly reminded to him by an old fat man. This would be his time to show them all that he was the true heir and not his idiotic cousin...It was as if he had spoken her into existence. There she stood atop of the hill from them, dressed in loose fitting black dress that blew in the wind. Her skin was glowing and her hair was much longer than it was when she was eighteen. Tiny as she was, he knew her power and influence she held was something to fear. She was the most beautiful woman he ever laid eyes upon, an he loathe her more than anything.

Sam stood upon the hill watching her family below. The only one to feel her presence was Nikolas. Their eyes locked and she could feel the years of turmoil combined with the uneasy attraction shared between them. He hated her and he had every right to do so. She betrayed him. She betrayed all of them for her naive wishful longing of a silly little girl. Nikolas the most though. He loss something more valuable than pride that day and Sam would always carry that guilt and shame with her. That was something time couldn't take away. Sam watched as they lit Mikkos' pyre. Bowing her head for one last deep breath and raising it like everyone else did. The flames burn brightly, licking up every ignitable surface. Stopping just before the feet of her people. Sam's eyes searched the crowd, looking desperately for them and then she saw them. Her younger sisters and her father. She felt a small, but very significant weight lift from her heart. They looked well, unharmed. They were much older than when she was forced away from them. She had left behind a ten and six year old, to come back to face two very beautiful young women. That day was one of the hardest for her.

Ten years ago. . .

Her eyes were red and sore. Her nose was running harder than a faucet. Crying wasn't going to help the situation. Nor was begging. She had no choice. She couldn't stay. "Sissy? Where are you going?" Kristina asked, taking her older sister's face into her hands. Sam stared into the eyes of the innocent face of a child she loved and couldn't hold back the tears that escape. "I'm going away for a little while. I did….I did something I shouldn't have and this is my punishment." Sam said, letting her sister wipe away her tears. "When will you return?" Sam thought back to her trial, hearing her sentencing float around her head like a quickly spinning carousel.

100 years of isolation on the Isle of Skye

It was never ending, like a constant reminder of had royally she fucked up. "I'll return one day. When you're older, and the skies are gray, and Molly's no longer afraid of the dark. I'll be there to meet you again." Sam said, pulling Kristina in for a hug. "But what if I don't want you to go?" Kristina choked. Finally letting the wave of emotions hit her. "You don't have a choice, Prissy." Sam said, using her little nickname for Kristina to somehow ease the pain. She held her tighter, hearing the the footsteps coming closer to her door. "Just remember I love you to the moon and back. And I would set this world afire if you or Molly were ever harm. My power is great and I would die to protect you." The door was flung open. Krissy was snatched from Sam's grasp. Breaking their embrace and causing Kristina to kick and scream. "Don't fight, Krissy. It'll be okay. Everything will be okay."

Those were the last words she spoke to her sister before she was dragged from her home by her arms. Discarded like a thorn in the thumb. She didn't deny her anger, even if she deserved it. She wasn't there to protect her mother from her death, but she would do her damn best to keep her father and sisters safe. Even if that meant a rising king should fall. "It's time to go be reintroduced to your family, Samantha. Buck up, kid. There's a fight ahead of you." Mrs. H said, breaking through the noise in her head. Sam looked at her. Giving her most trusted servant a grateful smile. "I'm ready."


	3. Chapter 3

BLOOD OF MY BLOOD

Centuries and centuries ago

Concealed in rags and dirt, Vladimir Cassadine set out in search of a woman who was said to see the future. He didn't believe in such things as fortune telling or magick. He lived in a world where he believed in nothing, but the power of his steel and the strength of his army. But...but he was told this woman had predicted the Great War that was upon them and had foretold many deaths. He had to at least know if any of those deaths she saw included his brother, Sandor.

As the small town slept, Vladimir and a few loyal men of his cause, crept through the cold reserved nearly ghost town that was Livny. Snow covered rooftops and every inch of land they could see. Many of the people that lived there had evacuated for the war that was coming. Leaving behind their homes and a few miscellaneous items. The cold seeped into their bones sending a spine tingling chill all over their bodies. They were nearing the house that was said to be hers when the caw of a raven caught their attention and they immediately stopped. Yevgeny, his most trusted mercenary, halted in his tracks. Intensely listening to the wintry world around them. They all stopped to listen. When a sword came rushing toward them. He was quick, but not quick enough. His stupidity that was masked as bravery, got him a dagger in the throat and sword slicing open his midsection. His intestines and other internal organs spilled out onto the snow before them. Staining the snow with a rich scarlet river. Vladimir chuckled at the sight of the man. "Fool." He murmured. Yevgeny got to his feet, wiping off his blade and keeping his eyes on the direction the man came from. Expecting more. "Was he one of Rurik's men?" an obviously nervous Abram asked. Abram Cassadine, a cousin he was and weak one at that. Simply following whichever brother that wouldn't kill him. He was foolish to ever trust Vladimir though. Before the night was up he would sure end up with a slit throat. Of course his death will be blamed on their enemies, House Rurik. Sandor would seek vengeance for a fallen member of their house and Vladimir would be by his side praying for his downfall.

"He wasn't. He was one of mine." They all immediately jumped into defensive stances. Ready for battle. To their surprise it was an elderly woman, who was standing upon them. Her skin was wrinkled and gray, with wisps of long white strands of hair blowing against her face. When Vladimir looked harder he could see nothing but the whites of the woman's eyes. She was blind. "Don't be too shocked, Vladimir. I can see the world just as clearly as you." She extended a hand toward him. Waiting patiently for him to accept it. "How do you know my name, hag?" He asked, demanding a response. His hand didn't except hers, but she still kept it hanging in midair. "I don't trust this...witch." Yevgeny spat at the ground before her. That's when her hand dropped. She turned in his direction. It was as if she could see the scowl on his face and was glaring right back at him. Vladimir was fascinated by her. "I don't take to kindly to disrespect. Show some or head back to your cold empty cottage. Where you'll find your wife in bed with your more attractive brother." Yevgeny gasped. Astounded and disgusted by her words he lunged at her. "STOP!" Vladimir shouted. Yevgeny held the tip of the blade to the old woman's neck. "Why should I? She just called my wife a whore and besmirched my family's name!" Yevgeny was fuming. The tone in his voice didn't sit well with the prince. He slapped the mercenary's wrist, knocking the man's hand down from the old woman's neck. "As your true ruler you will learn to use your tongue more wisely when speaking to me. Now do as I commanded." His voice was low, but the threat was there. Yevgeny dropped his blade at once. Bowing slightly. "Forgive me." Vladimir didn't spend too much time on him and looked back at the old woman. She was smiling. "I've been told you can see into the future. Is that true?" Vladimir asked, gripping the handle to his sword just in case she denied her supposed gift. She simply laughed and extended her hand once again. Snow started to fall from the skies above them. "I can and I know why you're here. I can help you." Vladimir beamed at her response. "I can tell you whether you're brother will die and when you will be the rightful tsar." She continued. Vladimir stepped forth and finally accepted her hand. Feeling that much closer to his destiny. "Excellent."

Present

Wyndemere Beach

Their eyes burned into her. She could feel each and everyone of them bore hole into her entire body. 'Hold your head high, Samantha. Don't let that crown slip." Mrs. H whispered so only she could here. It was something she use to say to Sam growing up. It was a way to remind her that no matter what, she was the crowned princess and that they must all bend to her, even if their hate ran deep. So she walked forward not hesitating or pausing to regain her posture. Back straight, head high, and with the attitude of a thousand men. She could feel the unease swiftly move throughout the crowd. Her presence wasn't welcomed, but not one soul dare to utter a grievance. That was until she got to him. "What on earth are you doing here, Sacha? Oops. That's not what you're going by these days. Like your mother you took on an alias. Samantha." Nikolas said through gritted teeth. Sam couldn't hold the facade any longer and it dropped. His eyes held the anger, hurt, and betrayal she had ran from. Now she was facing it all at once.

"What are you doing here? You know by breaking your exile I could slit your throat right now. Let your blood make a pretty pattern in the sand and then let your body go up in flames." He could. Breaking exile was forbidden. Standing before them right now meant certain death. "She's been pardon." A voice from behind spoke out. Nikolas turned as the crowd parted letting the old man pass through. Sam recognized him almost instantly. "What are you talking about Reuben? She can't be pardon. I was there during sentencing." Nikolas voice grew. His anger was spilling over and Sam knew what to expect. As a boy, Nikolas always had the worst temper, lashing out and losing control. Sam was on the receiving end of most of his outbursts. Somehow she was always the one to be able to calm him down, but not this time. This time she would just make it worst. "Your grandfather was the one who pleaded Sam's case a year after she was exiled. That on the day he should ever die her exile would be lifted. And what a day it is for a family reunion." The old man grin brightly as he walked passed Nikolas and up to Sam. "Follow me." He instructed. Sam didn't ask any questions and did what she was told. Only glancing back once at her still very shocked family.

Kristina couldn't believe this. She was actually back. "How can this be happening, Nikolas?" She asked, throwing down her shawl. Molly came in behind her, followed by Stefan. Stefan could feel the joy filling him. Seeing his child return to him was one of the things he had prayed upon and was grateful it was finally happening. Others on the other hand weren't at all pleased with this latest development. "Did you not hear what Reuben just told us?! Are you now deaf?" Nikolas tried to contain the pulsating rage within him, but with Sam's return he knew his claim to the throne would slip through his fingers. Her power was much greater than his. It always had been. Being born first and Sam's inability to follow the laws of their House gave him a somewhat stronger claim, but even with all that it still wasn't strong enough to guarantee his hold. "Don't get pissy with me, Nik. I want her gone as much as you do." Kristina said, blowing her breath. "I mean with you being next in line can't you just send her back." Molly grabbed Kristina's arm. "What are talking about? She's our sister." Molly said, surprising herself. She barely knew Sam, and here she was defending her right to stay. Kristina glared at her and shook her hand off. "Our sister is a traitor to our family. Her blood may scream Cassadine stronger than any of us, but she's weak. Especially when it comes to men. No surprise since Natasha is our mother." Molly took a step away from her, closer to their father. He grabbed her hand squeezing it. "I haven't actually been placed upon the throne yet. And Sam's claim is just as strong as mine. Too bad I don't have an heir to cement my claim. She took that from me too." Nikolas looked out toward the bluffs. Feeling the cold hard memory hit him. "Don't worry Krissy, once I am put upon that damn throne, Sam will return to whence she came. For good this time." He was going to do everything in his power to make sure that statement came true.

Sam watched the older man she knew to be a distant great uncle, waddled to the chair across from her. They were sitting in her grandfather's office. One she remembered faintly. Nikolas and her weren't allowed pass the entryway, but there were times they snuck in to play. Those times were gone. Now she sat in the chair in front of her uncle, who stared harshly back at her. "You know your mother wasn't someone I thought too fondly of?" He said, taking Sam aback. "She was reckless, disobedient, and very strong willed. You remind me of her." Sam straighten her back against the leather seat. Not hiding her hatred for the man who ordered her mother's execution. "Is that why you had her killed? Cause she didn't follow your little rules? Your guidelines on how to be a perfect Cassadine?" Sam knew she was stepping on a thin line. She had just been brought back and angering one of the Covenant members would be a stupid move. He didn't seem ruffled by Sam's words. He was obviously thinking of the past. "You're mother had a death we didn't put her down, Starvos or Nikolas would have. We were doing our job." Reuben simply stated. He wasn't regretful, but something was bothering him. "Maybe she was, but she's gone now. I don't understand what does any of this has to do with me." Sam was frustrated. Talking about her mother was a sore subject. She could've saved her and instead she wasn't even here for her funeral pyre. Her father and sisters had been grieving two losses. She was to blame for it all.

"This has everything to do with you. That day at your mother's trial she said something. I tried to deny the truth, but she was right." He had gain Sam's full attention. "What? What did she say?" Reuben's eyes moved around the room as if the walls actually had ears and leaned in closer to her. "You belong on that throne, Sacha. And I'm going to make sure you're the one sitting upon it." Sam felt a jolt inside her. She couldn't possibly take what Nikolas wanted so badly. Not again. Never again. Or could she?

Lucky didn't know where he belonged. Or what he should do. He sat in the dark holding her picture. Emily Quartermaine was his best friend and also the first person he ever truly loved and she was dead. Murdered by those disguising themselves as human. They were far from it. Abominations they are, but were known as the Cassadines.

He kept a copy of her case in his house. It was there to remind him of what those people could do to you if given the chance. They were brutal savages. He had known this since he was sixteen, when that bastard and his cousin enrolled in his school. He knew they would cause nothing, but trouble and they did.

Thirteen Years Ago. . .

The halls were empty as Lucky snuck inside. Of course he missed the alarm waking up late. Standing in front of his locker was Emily and she was staring off into the distance at something…or someone. "What are you looking at?" He asked, playing with her hair. Emily swat at his hand laughing. She nodded toward the people just up ahead. Standing in front of the front office was a tiny dark haired girl, who was talking to a very exasperated guy. Every second or so he would blow his breath and roll his eyes, but he didn't stop her. Oddly enough, he seemed to enjoy hearing her talk. "Who are they?" Lucky asked, confused. Emily smiled, still staring at the dark haired kids. Who also looked very much alike. "New kids. Cassadines to be exact." Emily said, with her smile growing. Her attention for the duo was slowly aggravating him. "Cassadines? But they never come off that island. I heard they were all inbred cannibals." Lucky joked, but not hiding his disgust. Emily scoffed. "Well if that's what inbred people look like then I'm completely fine with it. He's so hot." Emily gushed. Lucky looked back over at the kid. He was unusually good looking for a sixteen year old. Suddenly he looked up and met Lucky's eyes. Lucky quickly looked away. "Great, now he might think I'm gay." Lucky groaned, placing his face into his locker. Emily elbowed him. "Shutup. They're coming this way." Emily whispered back to him. The girl reminded Lucky of a tiny fairy. Bouncy, innocent looking, and gorgeous. Her smile was as big as her curls. She made it over to them first. "Hi, I'm Sacha." She stretched forth her hand. Emily took it and gently shook. Returning her smile. "Hey, I'm Emily and this is my best friend Lucky." Emily introduced him before he could do it himself. Obviously waiting for the guy to speak. Which he never did. Sam could feel the awkwardness creep in and bumped into him. "This lovely human being is my cousin, Nikolas." She introduced him. He stood there with his arms crossed. She bumped him harder this time. "Where are my manners? I'm Nikolas." He said, dropping his smile after speaking. Emily didn't seem to care. She was besotted and Lucky knew he had lost her.

Present Day

Sam ran straight into her father's arms. Tears spilling over as they embraced. "I missed you, papa." She said into his shoulder. She waited for him to respond and was met with silence. She pulled back from their hug to look up at him. "Papa? What…" She started when Kristina entered. Her eyes were so cold and detached, Sam almost flinched from how hard she looked at Sam. "Oh, he won't reply. He can't." She said flatly. Sam looked from her and back up at her father. Stefan caressed her face with his hands with tears filling his own eyes. "I don't understand. Why not?" She asked him, but Kristina once again spoke for him. "His tongue was cut out right after you left. His punishment for keeping your secrets. You should be proud. You do something incredibly selfish and caused a ripple effect in your immediate family. Amazing." Kristina knew her words were hurtful and she relished in it. "Oh, papa." Sam cried holding his face. He pulled away ashamed by his disability. Not wanting his daughter to see him at such a weak state. "Don't." Sam grabbed his face again. Holding on tightly. "Don't turn your face away from me. Don't be ashamed. I love you, papa. And I've missed you so much." Tears fell freely from both their eyes now. A gurgled sob escaped Stefan's lips. Sam saw it. The empty socket within his mouth. It broke her heart even more. She did this and now this was another thing she would have to live with.

Kristina could no longer bear witness to the scene unfolding before her. Her lip curled in revulsion. Storming from the room she bumped into Nikolas. "What's wrong with you?" He asked, not really concerned, but intrigued. Already knowing who could cause her mood to shift so swiftly. "Whatever it takes to get rid of that bitch just tell me and I'll gladly help." Nikolas stared into the eyes of his little cousin. She was a woman now and very much all Cassadine. He wouldn't dare treat her like some a child. "Excellent."

The Floating Rib

The bar wasn't as packed as the last night he was here. The air was thick with the smell of barbecue sauce and brown liquor. Patrick took a sip of his beer. Not sure why he was back here. He should be resting up since he soon would be starting the night shift, but a call from his father unsettled him a bit. Thankfully she walked in. His mind was off of his father and onto her. She spotted him at the bar and moved through slow dancing couples to get to him. "I see you're back." He said, once she took a seat. She ordered a beer and turned to face him. "I could say the same for you." She paid for her beer and then took a sip when it was placed in front of her. "So you look a bit upset. Wanna talk about it? I can cure all ailments. Even those of the heart." He tapped lightly on her chest, but not in a sexual way. He really meant it. Sam took another sip. "Let's cut the bullshit. You wanna fuck me, don't you?" She asked bluntly, getting off her barstool. Patrick mouth fell open a bit, but he closed it and said, "You don't waste any time." He also took another sip of his beer and stood. "I don't." Sam grabbed his arm, smirking. She pulled him outside and into the alley just off the right. Her lips pressed against his as soon as the sounds from the bar were a good distance behind them. He let her lead for a minute, while he got his bearings. Her kiss was so deep and intoxicating, his mind became jumbled. When it cleared he pulled her closer. Feeling her breasts against him. He grabbed her waist picking her small body up and letting her straddle him. Grinding into her against the concrete wall made his dick hardened. She bit his lip. Hard enough to draw blood. He pulled back, bringing his fingers to his lip. A drop of blood stained his index and middle finger. He looked up at Sam and her eyes were completely dilated. In a matter of seconds even the sclera in each eye was black. She started panting vigorously, like she was out of breath. He stood their befuddled. She expected him to run or say something, but he didn't do either. Her willpower was gone and she could no longer hold back. Her hands grabbed his face fiercely, pulling him in. Her mouth opening three times the normal size as she bit into his shoulder. Blood filled her mouth. The taste was incredible. Savory and sweet like a chocolate covered pretzel. The warm scarlet liquid rushed down her throat. Energizing her as well as sexually arousing her. She couldn't contain herself and unzipped his jeans, letting him thrust himself inside her. His moans were ones from pain and pleasure. He pulled her body closer to him, while he slid his dick out and slammed it right back inside. Suddenly it hit her and she dropped him. Patrick holding his shoulder stumbled backward. Staring at her in disbelief, and in awe. He fell back. Hitting his head on a crate. She ran to his side. "Patrick?" She called out his name, worried. Placing her head on his chest she could feel a slight thump of his heartbeat. Breathing a sigh of relief Sam sat on her heels with on hand on his chest. Thinking of her grandfather. Weird timing, she knew, but the question she never once asked hit her.

How did he die? He was immortal.


	4. Chapter 4

**BEHIND THESE CASTLE WALLS**

She sat up, facing away from him. Dismayed by her actions, but also upset by what she had realized. That, sadly, was something to worry about tomorrow. Tonight she had loss control. Something she promised herself she would never do…..again.

He was quiet behind her. Not making any movements or murmurings. Which caused her to worry even more. She turned to face him and was astonished at what she was met with. He was….smiling at her. Grinning foolishly, like some child with a great secret. Sadly it was her secret he knew and was proud to have.

"Why are you smiling like that?" Sam asked, after studying his euphoric expression for a minute. "Smiling like what?" He asked, placing his hands behind his head. He could tell his relaxed presence unnerved her and he enjoyed that. "Like an idiot." She said harshly. Her insult didn't affect him. He leaned forward, into her face. So close he could smell his blood on her lips and his scent on her. "What are you?" Patrick's eyes were full of wonder. He stared at her like she was some work of art hung inside an extremely ancient museum. Her breath caught at the lingering of his eyes. His hand slipped behind her head, drawing her in. His lips touched hers, staining them with blood. "What are you?" He repeated, a little lower this time. So deep in his fascination. She pulled away. "I'm nothing. Nothing of your concern." Sam forced herself to keep a good distance from him. She didn't know why, but she had the intense urge to let him touch her like some newfound artifact, gently and cautiously. "Are you a vampire?" He said into the darkness between. This caused her to laugh, but it wasn't an amused laugh. It was more of an irritated one. Sam rolled her eyes and reached down to grab her clothes. "I'm not some fictional creature from a young adult romance novel. Vampires don't exist." She replied, pulling up her jeans. He looked confused and she knew more questions were to come. "You just drunk a good portion of blood from my neck. If you didn't stop you could've killed me. So what do you call someone like you? A fallen angel?" He joked, but her face became grave. "I would call myself cursed. A demon, a monster, but mostly upyr. An angel, I am not. Or could ever be." Images of a time long since past danced dismally inside her head. She closed her eyes pushed them away. "Are all of you like this?" He suddenly asked. Sam quickly looked back at him. "What do you mean all of us?" Her eyes darkened and she was no longer in a playful mood. "I mean your family. You kinda gotta have one, even if most of us wished they didn't exist." Patrick teased. Sam loosened up her tense posture and closed her eyes once more to keep the beast at bay. Laughing to herself helped, but really she didn't want Patrick to see how close she was to protecting those she loved. "I did a long time ago." Sam said slowly. Patrick pulled her in his arms. Letting her feel his erection. She smiled. "And now?" He asked, as his head dipped close into hers. "And now I'm all alone."

 **20 Years Ago. . .**

The rain was pouring down hard. An onslaught pelted the top of her head and the back her neck. She didn't even wince when the hail hit her. Her feet didn't even touch the ground as she sprinted from the beach up the rocky hills straight to the servants' entryway of the kitchen. Sacha looked around desperately for something soft to place her small friend. Anything that could be useful was either beyond her reach or nowhere in sight. Finally she saw the slightly large cooked chicken laying atop of a soft bed of lettuce, surrounded by all sorts of steamed vegetables. It looked seasoned to perfection and savoring. She pulled a stool up to it. Climbing upon the very smooth surface and with no hesitation she lift the twelve pound chicken from it's bed. Tossing it aside to place the wounded black face sparrow in it's place. "Come on, Emir. Come on." Sacha willed the bird to live. He was strong and he was magnificent. Yet he couldn't fend off the attacks from Nikolas' coupled ravens, Tristan and Isolde. He lifted his tiny head at the sound of her voice. Old friends they were. She knew him since his egg hatched in a tree he was abandoned in when she was barely six. It was on their vacation in Marmaris, Turkey and from that day on she always promised to protect him. To never abandon him and to keep him safe. For just a moment she had hope for his survival and then a rock the size of a bear's paw crushed his skull.

"NO!" The young child cried, feeling as if all the wind had been knocked out her. Her eyes zoomed in on his little lifeless body, distraught. Then she looked up at his murderer to only find her older cousin standing over her. He stared back at her with aloofness.

"He was suffering. It's always better to end it then hope for anything else."

Sam couldn't think. She couldn't hear. All she could do was attack. Her tiny eight year old body leaped off the stool and onto Nikolas. He wasn't expecting her assault and was completely caught off guard. She was able to knock him to the ground, where her sharpened nails did all the damage. She clawed at his face like a feral cat. Not pausing once for a moment to catch her breath. She wanted to hurt him. Kill him even. She didn't even hear his pleas to stop. Everything had all gone black.

She didn't stop until her father pulled her off of him. "Young lady, what has come over you?" Stefan asked, in a stern voice. Then suddenly he went silent. Aghast by what he saw. His child's eyes were as black as the night sky. Her breathing was labored and her normal beautiful olive skin had gone wan. "What in the Apollyon is going on in here?" Mikkos wondered, upon entering the grand kitchen. Then he saw it too. "That can't be possible. She's merely a child. How can it be?" He thought aloud. Sam broke down and tears. Unmasking her anger and revealing her pain. Stefan cradle his child. Still holding onto the wave of shock that filled him. Nikolas watched on enviously, but also enthralled.

 **Present Day**

His pelvis hit against hers as he thrusted deeper inside. Feeling her climax once again, but not stopping to cum together. His head was filled with noise and he needed the distraction.

 _His Sacha was back. No. She was never his. Not that he didn't want her to be._

She screamed out underneath him, obviously cumming again. She was exhausted and very dehydrated. So he gave in and released himself inside her. Still above her, his door burst opened. "What a sight this is, nephew?"

Nikolas rolled off his bedded conquest and faced his aunt Irina. He rolled his eyes at her unwanted appearance. "Have you heard of this new age thing called knocking? Or are you just that obtuse?" Nikolas retorted. His mood was foul and she wasn't helping. The woman in bed beside him drew the sheets over her face. Trying to conceal her identity. Nikolas rolled his eyes at her pathetic attempt. "Don't concern yourself, sister. I'm not here to relay your infidelity to your ignorant husband, but the look on his face when he does discover this, will be stupendous." Kris dropped the sheet. Shaking out her tangled ginger hair. She threw comforter hiding her body off of herself and stood. "No need for such formalities, Irina. We have never saw each other as anything, but rivals for an old man's affection." Kris gathered her things. Obviously ashamed by what Irina walked in on. Her lust for her nephew was a weakness. One she hoped to finally quell, but somehow her desire had her end up in his thrall. "Also your patronizing tone and insincere words do nothing for me. I know once you leave here you'll just go running to Pieter." Kris looked at her harshly. Irina was unfazed by Natasha's baby sister. She was by far the weakest out of them. A human sympathizer she was and a emotional one at that. The Covenant had been trying to silence the flaming hair beauty for some time now, but since she hadn't broken a law she had become untouchable. For now.

Kris started to walk pass Irina and her smile grew as she whispered, "I also already told Pieter you were screwin' Nikolas' like a bitch in heat before I got here. And I have to admit his face wasn't as stupendous as I hoped, but the anger was definitely there." Kris' nostrils flared, her face became a almost the same color as her hair, and she looked embarrassed. "He was also in the company of your darling twin girls. Such precious tender age seven is." Irina's smirk grew into a grin. Kris didn't say another word and stormed from the room. "Was that necessary?" Nikolas said, once she left. He grabbed his black buttoned up shirt and preceded to put it on. Irina walked further into the room. "Stop pretending as if you care. Let's forget the golden pussy and get to why I'm here." Irina said, lifting the panties Kris forgotten behind. "You think she'll want these?" Irina said, inhaling them. Nikolas grimaced.

"Get to why you're here and then leave. I have more important matters to tend to."

Irina shrugged and slid the black silk panties into her pocket. "I'm here on official Covenant business. They want you to leave their precious little Samantha alone." Irina said dully. Nikolas became amused. "Why would I do anything to my cousin? I'm the one next in line. She's nothing more than an unwanted distraction. She won't distract me though." Nikolas replied, making sure his voice sounded as dispassionately as possible. Irina of course didn't buy it, but had no choice other than to accept his words at face value. "Okay. Great. Then I can now report back to the Covenant and tell them all is well and no need to worry about the rising of a civil war." Irina turned to go. Then she stopped. Nikolas sighed. "You're not on the throne yet. So don't be too confident you'll ever be." Her words sat with him, but he wasn't upset. He knew that already. That's why he had a plan for Sam's ultimate downfall.

Molly sat up in her bed, staring at her empty balcony across from her. It was almost like it was beckoning her to it. She could no longer resist and crawled out of her bed and over to it. Her telescope was in its usual spot ready for her to begin using it. She placed her eye on the end and looked at what she so desperately yearned for.

The lights were so bright and the town was wide awake. Port Charles, New York, was luminous and unknown to Molly. That was because it was forbidden. No Cassadine was allowed to step foot inside the town. Any other part of New York? Sure, but PC was forbidden fruit. This just made it all the more alluring to her. She wanted to see what it was she wasn't allowed to. Taste it.

She knew a war had erupted between her people and the townsfolk. She also knew many had died and that it all started because of her older sister, Sam. She hate her for it, Krissy wanted her to. She just wanted to know what had caused such a tragedy.

Krissy stayed in the shadows looking in on the man through the large glass window. His forehead was creased, he seemed stressed over something and she had the odd sense to comfort him. She didn't though. She kept her presence unknown. He looked up and out of the window. His eyes passed over her direction and Kristina pressed her back against the cold brick wall. Concealing herself with the black obscurity of the night. She chewed her lower lip. Afraid he saw her, but then he looked back down at the papers before him. "You've come here almost every night for the past two years." The voice was low and right beside her. She didn't have to look to know who it was. "Hello, Milo." She said, turning away from the man behind the glass and walking away from her uninvited guest. "Why?" He asked, slowly following her. "Why what?" She stopped and this time she looked at him. He was a few years older than her. Handsome, but not very bright. He let her stalk in peace knowing she didn't come to bring any harm to his boss. Her ambiguity is what enticed him. She could see it in his eyes. He wanted to know who the girl in the shadows was, but sadly he would never know. Kristina barely knew who she was.

"Why do you come here? What do expect will happen?"

She released a deep sigh. She didn't know. His questions are ones she had asked herself on many occasions. She had risked her life so many times sneaking out the house to come here and it was all for what? "Nothing." She finally said. "Don't worry. This is my last night here. I just came to see him one last time before my life was different. I won't be bothering you anymore." This time she didn't stop walking. She let the night carry her into town. Into a place she was never suppose to enter.

 **The Haunted Star**

The music was upbeat and the alcohol was flowing. So many young people in one place. Kristina loved it. Hiding amongst those in her age group while they stuffed whatever they could fit up their nose, drunk whatever alcohol that numbed the pain the fastest, and fucked whoever was willing enough to give it up. She observed and listened. No one knew who she was or where she had come from. She kept to herself and no one bothered her. She was normal. Then he came, like he always did. "Hello, Michael." He pulled her from the shadows. Forcing her to stand in the light. She didn't mind. They wouldn't be here for long. His blood is what she craved and to feel desired is what he yearned for. Two halfs of a fucked up whole.

Maya massaged her temples. Lucky was a mess. A drunken mess. He sat on their couch with a flask in one hand and the remote in the other. "Do you want to go out to eat tonight? Do you want to do anything?" She asked exasperated. He ignored her as usual. Never budging an inch. Getting fed up Maya gave up. "Fine, Lucky. You can sit on this couch and pout for the rest of your life. See if I give a damn." She grabbed her bag and left. Feeling some relief when she was finally outside and away from the depressing atmosphere.

Lucky just sunk deeper into the depression. Not bothering to go after her. She was better off without him, but for some reason she stayed. She was by his side fighting for him. He didn't understand why. Was her love for him that great?

Suddenly a manila envelope slid underneath the crack in his door. Was it Maya leaving a letter to finally be rid of him? He wouldn't blame her. He had been nothing, but a disappointment for the past few days. At first he didn't even bother to go see, then curiosity got the best of him like it does for us all. It wasn't a letter from Maya. On the front a weird symbol was stamped onto it. Two beasts were locked in battle, neither seemed to be victorious, but in control. Lucky opened it and inside was a small white card that read:

 _ **You have been warmly invited to join us at a feast on October 3.**_

 _ **The docks will hold further information.**_

 _ **House Krsnik anticipates your arrival.**_

Once again curiosity consumed him.

 **Blue Moon Motel**

She hooked her bra back on. Pulling her shirt over her head. "Why are you leaving me? The night is still young and I still have so many questions." He said, grabbing her wrist softly. She let him hold onto her for a second before slipping from his grasp. "Have you ever heard the saying, 'curiosity killed the cat'?" She stood, pulling back up the jeans she had peeled off for the second time that night. The neon blue light from outside danced across her skin as it blinked on and off. "I have, but have you ever heard, 'a growing boy must be fed'?" Patrick countered, staring up into her dark brown eyes. She laughed. "I think you've done all the eating you need for tonight." Patrick licked his lips and could quite possibly disagree with that statement, but he didn't want to piss her off. "I shouldn't be here. What are we doing?" Sam questioned aloud. It was directed more toward herself than to him. It didn't stop him from responding though. "We're having a good time and I would like to believe we're getting to know each other." He was charming and sexy. She liked him, but this was dangerous territory she was treading. She knew this and for some reason she was doing it anyway.

" _Those who cannot remember the past, are condemned to repeat it_." Sam quoted.

She closed her eyes and let her vivid and vibrant memories flood her. "I remember my past so clearly. I refuse to ever repeat it." She spoke softly.

Her words struck a chord with him. Bringing up past memories of his own. Ones he would very much like to keep buried.

He reached out and tugged a thick strand of her hair. "You are the creator of your future. Thus meaning you and only you are in charge of how it turns out." Patrick said, with a soft smile. Contagious it was, she smiled too. Then it disappeared as swiftly as it came. "You should fear me. I should cause you a great amount of unease. Did you just forget how we ended up here?" She met his eyes to let him know she was being serious. He stared back unflinchingly. "I didn't forget. I wonder about you, but I'm not afraid." Sam dropped her eyes. Disconcerted by his honesty. This was new to her. Not unheard of but unfamiliar for her at least. She had never experienced a human so at ease with what she was and with the unknown of it all. She swallowed the lump that sat tightly in her throat. She raised her head to meet his eyes once more and said, "What if I told you I killed my cousin's son? He was no more than a child. How would you feel then?"


	5. Chapter 5

**HOUSE KRSNIK**

 **Many centuries ago**

Vladimir sat in front of his meal perturb. The witch's words had been replaying in his head for a week now. He couldn't get them out of his head. He didn't understand.

" _Blood will be his downfall and ultimately your rise."_

How could blood be Sandor's downfall? Vladimir asked himself. Was he sick?

Vladimir looked over to where his brother, Sandor sat surrounded by his growing family. His beautiful wife, Yekaterina, sat beside him like the queen she was. Her skin was glowing and her hair was pulled back into a thick ebony braid. Her small growing belly showed proudly. Their three kids surrounded them, watching with bright eyes as their father told stories of his many battles. His brother was buoyant and passionate whenever he told his many war stories. Vladimir use to love hearing them as a child himself. Now it only further angered him.

Vladimir wanted that. He deserved. And he would get it.

 **Present Day**

The room was big, and white. Very white. From the walls to the stationary, were all a smooth pale ivory. Lucky wasn't sure if he should sit on the extremely immaculate white leather sofa or continue to stand on the spotless white carpet. How could anyone keep up with such a place, Lucky thought to himself.

"You're probably wondering about all the white." Lucky turned to the guy beside him. He didn't recognize him, but he was one of the first few people he had met when he got here.

"Yeah. I sorta am."

The guy chuckled and nodded. "Yeah. It's a bit much, but that's the way Kaz likes it. Neat and everything in its place." The guy shrugged, taking a sip of his noticeably white wine. "I think it's OCD or something." Lucky took that into consideration. It definitely was something.

The room was full with mostly men. Some women were there, sprinkled in the mixture, but only a few. Lucky didn't know any of them though. Not a soul in that room was recognizable. He turned to asked the guy what this was all about when all the small talk died. A silence swept across the room and everyone was focused on the double doors just before them. Expecting a grand entrance Lucky wasn't aware of. The doors open and Kaz Krsnik entered. His suit was tailored to perfection and his shoes were polished to reflect the sun. His blonde hair was slicked back with the sides shaved. He reminded Lucky of some evil villain from an old black and white movie. He was surprised he didn't have a curled mustache to twirl. His face was long and his eyes were like ice; cold and hard. Then he smiled.

"Welcome. I'm proud to welcome you all into my home on this fine evening." He started, the room was captivated. "I know you all are wondering what you're doing here, but don't fret. All your questions will be answered." He said giving them a relaxed smile. Lucky could see a few flushed faces amongst them. Men and women alike were drawn to the allure that was Kaz. He rubbed his growing stubble taking it all in, while Lucky watched him closely. Not as intensely as the rest of them though.

"But before we dive into things, drink, converse, and have a good time." Kaz raised his glass, which seemed to be water from what Lucky could see and toasted. Everyone raised their glasses in unison. Lucky was the only one that didn't return the gesture and chose to instead just watch. He craved the hard brown liquor he had in the flask he'd brought, but resisted the temptation. He needed his wits about him and being in a drunken stupor wouldn't help. Once Kaz was done, talking commenced once again.

"Hey, so I didn't catch your name." The guy beside Lucky said. Lucky turned to meet his wide grinning face once more and said, "That's because I didn't offer it." The guy's brows raised. "What did you say?" He looked confused and Lucky sighed. "Lucky. Lucky Spencer." Formerly detective Spencer, he kept that to himself. The guy grabbed his hand. "Steven Lars. Its nice to meet you Lucky."

 **Spoon Island**

Sam sat crossed leg on the bed that use to be her mother's. Her eyes looked over every piece of furniture, every piece of tapestry, and every other miscellaneous item she had lying around. Her mother's room was exactly as it was before she left. The dark burgundy drapes still hung lazily above the large bay window. Her gold and maroon rug with the detailed imps sewn in, still lay across the dark chocolate maple floor in front of her black wood vanity. She could picture her mother sitting on her bench, slowly brushing her hair. Sam use to watch her through the keyhole from the other side of the door. This room was another thing off limits, but Sam always found her ways inside.

The door creaked opened and Sam looked up to see Molly staring back. "Sorry. I didn't know you were…" Her voice trailed off, as she hurriedly tried to reclose the door. "Molly. It's fine. Come. Sit." Sam beckoned her, patting an empty spot on the bed. Molly was hesitant at first. Sam could see the quarrel just within. The opposing side forbidding it while her natural curiosity getting the best of her. In the end she came inside.

They both sat on the bed cross legged, staring at the vanity in silence. It was actually peaceful. "She loved that damn thing more than anything." Sam said, trying to ease the little tension that sat between them. She didn't know Molly nor did Molly know her, but she wanted to so badly. "That she did." Molly finally said. Sam smiled. Pleased by this development. "Sometimes I believe more than us." Sam's smile fell. She shook her head. "Mother loved us more than the moon loved the nitesky." Sam was sure of this. Her overwhelming confidence in her statement relaxed Molly a bit. "Do you miss it?" Molly turned to her and Sam turned to her benevolent baby sister. "What?" Molly bit the inner piece of her cheek. Not sure if this topic was off limits. She released it when she tasted the blood. "The Isle of Skye? I heard it's a large isolated rock where old magick lives." Molly couldn't keep the silly smile that spread across her face when she said it. "I know that sounds stupid." Sam waved off her embarrassment. "I do sometimes," she admitted, "but...but I'm happy to be home. I've missed you, Polly Molly." Sam tucked a lock of Molly's dark brown hair behind her ear. Molly felt overwhelmed by the small act, but also loved. She could feel the love Sam held for her transmit through her touch. It was something powerful and fierce. "How…" She wondered aloud. Sam gave her a mischievous look and said, "Great magick lives there, Molly. And one day you'll be able to see it for yourself." Excitement filled Molly's belly. She wanted this more than anything. Then the door slammed behind them causing them both to jump.

"What the hell are you doing with my sister?" Kristina bellowed. Her eyes were of something fierce and her lips were pulled back into one nasty snarl. Molly pulled away from Sam and climbed off the bed. "How could you come in here, Molly? You know how she forbade this. Death doesn't change her disdain for us." Kristina scolded her. Molly bit her lip, looking away from Kristina's disapproving face. Sam stood, getting in between them. "Don't you mean our sister?" Sam corrected. Kristina glared at her. "What?"

Her eyes were filled with a black rage that obviously seeped into her soul. Something Sam was familiar with, but knew how bad it could be for her and those around her. "I don't know what's your problem, Krissy, but you need to put a leash on that temper." Sam instructed. Kristina threw her head back and released a hearty laughter. One that was devoid of any actual cheer or joy. "Someone should put a leash on you. I can't believe they're letting you wander the grounds without one. We all know how dangerous you can be." Sam didn't flinch at her words, but she wanted to. Kristina knew. "Krissy?" Molly grabbed a hold of her arm, trying to calm her. "Don't ever be alone with her, Molly. You're not safe with this one." She was doing her best to hurt Sam. Trying to use what she had learned of their cousin's death to wound her heart and break her. Kristina couldn't tell if it was working or not, but she wasn't going to ease up.

"You can't push me away, Kristina. I love you." Sam said honestly.

Kristina pulled Molly behind her and got close to Sam's face. "You abandoned us, Samantha. Now we no longer need you or your love." Just like that they were gone. Leaving Sam alone in the dark place within her head she was slowly crawling into. She slammed her fist onto her mother's vanity. Which accidentally opened a usually locked drawer. Sam stared into the small thing. Reaching inside and pulling out a brown leather sheepskin book. A journal to be exact. One she never knew existed.

Just outside their mother's room Kristina's anger got the best of her and her hand slid across Molly's left cheek. "Don't you ever dare do some stupid shit like that again. As of now _that woman_ is off limits." Kristina stormed off. Not able to look at her sister. Molly held her bruised face as it slowly began to throb. She looked back at the room where Sam was. She wanted to be next to her. Talk to her. She wanted the sister she never knew.

 _Those that were forbidden were meant to be held._

 **General Hospital**

Patrick scrubbed his hands and arms thoroughly as he prepped for surgery. A young boy was mowed down by a car while riding his bike home. The driver thankfully stopped and got him help immediately, but the kid was in bad shape. He had a fractured tibia, a brain hemorrhage, and severe other major problems. His face was swollen beyond recognition. It took for his parents to identify his clothing to confirm it. Patrick had seen some bloody cases before, but this kid was no older than nine. This just got him thinking about Sam's cousin.

 _How old was he when he died?_

He shook the unwanted thoughts from his mind. He couldn't have that in his head when he was in there. He needed to be free of all of that. The images,the thoughts, and the concerns needed to be pushed aside so he could do his job. He was a brilliant neurosurgeon and this is what he was best at.

"Calling it." Patrick grimly looked down at his watch. "Eleven fifty-nine." The machines were cut off and the room full of doctors and nurses started to clear. Patrick stared down at the child.

 _Was there something he could've done?_

He shook his head. He did everything. He was sure of it. _Did you really?_ Patrick looked up from the boy to the person who was speaking. It was himself. He was wearing black scrubs and had a thick black beard. Looking pretty disheveled.

"I did!" Patrick snapped.

 _I'm not too sure about that, Paddy._

"You don't know what you're talking about. I did all I could for him." Patrick's eyes fell back down on the boy. He looked as if he was asleep. Peacefully and content. Patrick resisted the urge to touch the boy's cheek and instead removed his gloves.

 _Don't worry, Paddy. You're secret is safe with me. Just like always._

Patrick stared at himself for good long hour. Before he finally walked out the OR and back into life.

 **House Krsnik**

 _(Located on the outskirts of town)_

The house had finally emptied. The guests, the party planner, and the extra staff he hired for the party were all gone. Kaz was all alone.

But he wasn't really. He was never alone.

After locking the white room he headed outside, toward the back. His backyard was concealed by that of large oleander hedges. He ran his fingers across them as he made it to his destination. The doors to the cellar were locked and bolted. Kaz undid both and entered.

The temperature in the room was far colder than that of the fall air outside. He kket it like a walk-in deep freezer down here. He found the frigid air quite comforting.

Kaz grabbed his thick black parka and pulled it on. Flicking on the lights as he did. The room was larger than he originally intended, but it was good space nevertheless. The walls that surrounded him were soundproof cinder block. That he painted a nice shade of gray. Modern square LED light fixtures hung from the ceiling. It was well lit without the need of sun. Which was a good thing. This was where he did all his experiments.

He walked toward the back wall, where he had a collage of old family pictures. He was all that was left of the Krsnik House. His mother, father, and nine brothers and sisters had all perished in a horrendous fire. Somehow by the grace of God he survived. He was thankful for that everyday.

A low groan came from just behind. More soon followed. Before he turned his phone rang. He lift the cellphone to his ear and said, "Speak."

The man on the opposite end was one of his blood brothers, Adam. "Is the good doctor settling in alright?" Kaz listened for a moment. Lightly tapping his finger while he did. When Adam was finished Kaz smiled. "Excellent. He'll soon be ready."

Kaz ended the call and turned around to face the groans. He sighed. "Here I come, mother."

 **Blue Moon Motel**

She didn't know why she was back here. She couldn't help that she was drawn to him. It frightened her how much so. She stood just outside his room, her fist balled and ready to knock, but she didn't. She dropped her hand and turned away from the door. Facing the dirt road ahead. What she was doing could result in another exile for her or maybe this time a certain death. She knew this and she continued risking it all for what? _Sex?_

It had to be a better reason than that. He had to be more than just that. Her family was at stake. She couldn't lose them again. She finally made up her mind and started to head back the way she came, when she heard him call out her name. "Sam? Where are you going?" He caught up with her. Stopping her before she could get further. "I shouldn't be here." She told him. He laughed. "And yet you are." He reached for her hand. Intertwining his fingers with hers. "I'm glad you are. I had a shitty night. Seeing you makes it all worth it." He dipped his head towards her and pressed his lips to hers. She released the tension she was holding in her body and grasped his face. Holding it in between her palms. When they finally parted she was smiling. She didn't know when she had started to smile, or why it what such a foreign thing to her, but she liked it. She liked it a lot.

"You wanna do something." Patrick asked, still holding her hand. Sam's eyes wandered back toward his motel room. "Not that." Patrick laughed again. "Well, I wouldn't be opposed to that, but I mean something that gets us out of those four dark walls." She looked around. Wondering what he had in mind. "It's all dark, Patrick." She replied. He took in her words and remembered it was still night. "Yes, Sammy. I can see that. But do you trust me?" His question took her by surprise and so she answered honestly. "Never." He didn't seem bothered by her blunt response. "I'm up for the challenge."

He slowly lead her away from the motel and away from the lively diner that sat next to it. She wasn't afraid of being alone with him. She was afraid of herself. Of what she could do if her craving became too great. She could hurt him or worst. Now that scared her more than anything.

 _ **Ten Years Ago. . .**_

Sacha was soaked in blood, from her ebony slowly swaying hair down to her bare feet. She no longer could tell if it was hers or that of the many men she had slaughtered mercilessly. All she knew is that her pain was immense. Her shattered heart hurt the worst. She trusted a man, a human one, and just like her family warned her, he betrayed her. Now she was dying.

She walked off the pier from Port Charles and straight into the harbor. Leaving behind the crumbling world that had become the town. Swimming for her home on Spoon Island. It took her less than ten minutes to get there. She expected a real scolding or worst, the Covenant, but no one was there to greet her. All she wanted to do was take a hot bath and crawl into her bed. She wanted to forget this day and she wanted to forget the name Jason Quartermaine.

She headed for the hills leading up to the castle that was Wyndemere. Her body ached and her joints were sore. She was so wrapped inside her thoughts she didn't even see them. She didn't realize anything until the cold steel spear was shot into her chest. She started coughing up blood. Falling to her knees, she pulled it from her body. They had followed her back to the island.

She gripped the spear tightly between her hands. Ready for an attack.

"Sacha!" She heard the little boy scream from above her. Horror filled her as she turned. Seeing her young cousin run to her. Two years old and his legs were stronger than most. He reached her in a matter of seconds. Jumping straight into her blood drenched arms. She held him protectively. Looking around for his mother. Yet not seeing another member from her family.

"Sacha?" He repeated.

He pulled his head back and looked up at her. His little hands wiped away the tears from her eyes. Not scared of the monster she was slowly becoming. She pulled him in closer again. Not really thinking about what it was she was doing. She just knew she needed her strength back. Her mouth enlarged and she dug her teeth into his tiny shoulder. Breaking his neck in the process she drained the child of every last drop. Feeling the power flood her, she stood. Letting the limp body fall to her feet. She faced away from it. With her eyes completely dilated, she rushed the oncoming men that were headed straight toward her.


	6. Chapter 6

" **IT"**

 _Centuries and centuries ago_

Aishe watched as her boys sparred, in the middle of the field their father, and his father, had once bled upon during great battles. They were tall, they were handsome, and they were strong. The thing she feared the most was their ultimate fall. She knew her younger son Vladimir lived with hatred in his heart for being her second born. At times he even hated her for having his brother first. She knew of the jealousy he held for his brother. Sandor was now leading their family, he had a beautiful wife, who gave him many healthy children, and he had an army bigger than most. Vladimir wanted that all for himself and Aishe hoped to cure him of all his dark desires.

Aishe was from a lowborn house and was that of Romani blood. Both were looked down upon, especially to be the wife of such royalty as Viktor the Victorious also known as Viktor the Vicious. A great man he was, he had a terrible temper and a thirst for blood. All feared him, but the young girl from the village, who tended his wounds from the many fights he had started. He secretly enjoyed her kindness toward him, but was too stubborn to tell her.

She would heal him and he would watch her. Mesmerized that something so little could be so powerful in his eyes. She had captured the heart of a powerful man and now wished to capture that man's son's heart to cure him of his hatred.

 **Present Day**

 _(Falcon Cove Beach)_

"Patrick? Patrick?" Sam softly called out his name in the dark. "I'm going to beat your ass when I find you." She continued to wander around on the vacant beach barefoot. Making sure she didn't step on a shard of glass from a broken beer bottle or sharp rock. Patrick had told her, he had something to show her and convinced her to close her eyes. She unwillingly did so and then reopened her eyes to find he was gone. As were her shoes. So here Sam was, a barefoot princess, who stomped angrily along the shore of a tucked away beach only those who lived in these parts knew even existed. "Patrick!" She raised her voice, searching the lapping waters before her. Then her small frame was lifted off the ground, causing her to shriek. "Miss me, Sammy?" Patrick whispered in her ear. His arms were wrapped tightly around her waist. Pulling her into him. He could smell the scent of her perfume and feel the palpitation of her heart. She was pissed.

She elbowed him in his side. He released her with a groan. "Where have you been and where are my shoes?" She turned to face him. Taking note of how adorable he looked when he was in pain. He gave a crooked little smirk. As the pain subsided he regain his composure. "I needed some time." He simply stated. Sam glowered at him suspiciously.

"For what?"

He smiled and reached for her hand. She let him take it. He pulled her further down the beach toward the large boulders that took up a good portion of the sizable beach. Together they climbed up to the top of one. When they finally made it up, Patrick stopped. Sam snatched her hand away and crossed her arms. "What?" She asked, already balking at whatever he had to show her. "That." He pointed down below them. It was on the opposite side from where they climbed and completely secluded from the rest of the beach. In this spot a small campfire was burning brightly and a navy blue blanket was spread just beside it. There she also saw her black ankle boots. Patrick led the way down and Sam followed. "What's all this for?" Sam looked from the blanket to the burning fire up to Patrick. He extended his hand toward her. "Let's call this a partial first date. So, Samantha, will you spend the night with me?" Her eyes fell upon the hand of his that was waiting for her answer. Her eyes rose up to his and she smiled. Accepting his hand she said, "Gladly."

She was still unsure about what she was doing. She should be at home trying to reconnect with her family. The family she hadn't seen in over ten years, but...but this was easier. Patrick didn't really know her enough to hate her. He didn't expect anything from her. She also didn't feel like crawling inside her own skin and disappearing, like she did when she was around her father or Nik. They made her feel far more than she wanted.

 _Guilt_

 _Despondency_

 _Abominable_

 _Uncertainty_

The list could go on. So she made sure to avoid them at all cost. She was the reason for their pain, their loss. Her father was now a mute widow and her cousin a….they didn't even have a word for parents who loss their child. She knew because of her they were in unbearable agony. Silent agony and seeing her everyday wouldn't help anyone. So her distance was their pain reliever. It was the best she could do.

"Hey?" Patrick nudged her. "Where you go?" She knew he could feel how taut her entire body got. She sat up. Moving herself from between his legs. Which ultimately forced him to sit up as well. "What?" He asked, surprised by her untangling their bodies.

"How are you okay with me?" Her question caught him and her own self off guard. That wasn't what she'd been thinking, but it was on her mind nevertheless. He was so comfortable with her. Even when knowing what she was and what she had done. He didn't know all of it, but enough. Now he looked uncomfortable. "I'm not scared of you Sam. Nor do I hate you for what you did to your cousin." He said. She could feel his hesitation and prompted his next sentence. "But?" Her gaze on him was critical. Waiting for him to say the wrong thing to justify her storming off and leaving him and this peacefulness behind. To hopefully let all of this live on as a foreign memory from a frozen place in time.

"But nothing. We all have pasts we aren't proud of or to keen on sharing. You were brave enough to share yours and I respect you for it. You're not that person anymore." She wanted to crawl inside his skin and live out the rest of her eternity inside the walls of his bones. She wanted so badly to feel at ease at what she had done, but the demons within were never at peace. Something she could also see that was troubling him. "What about your past?" She asked, feeling herself desiring to know more about the man she shared her body, mind, and past with.

Now that the attention was on him he felt himself shrinking away from her. She took notice of this. "Let's just say I've caused my own share of death and devastation." She didn't want to push the obviously uneasy subject, but her curiosity still sat high within. She decided to change the subject completely. "So how would you feel about an official date?" The tension that surrounded them slowly, but surely dispersed. "Are you asking me out?" He smirked. Relieved at the change in conversation. She nodded. "I am." She crawled over to him. Kneeling in the sand between his legs. "So Patrick, will you be my date for my sister's bacchanalia?"

 **Wyndemere**

 _Spoon Island_

An intense migraine was soon forming. This was all becoming too much. Philip would soon be arriving and their engagement party was tomorrow night. She had been slacking. Well with her grandfather's untimely death and the arrival of her blight of a sister, she had been consumed by other things. Now when she needed her the most, Molly wasn't speaking to her. She swore loudly and slammed her fists against her desk. "Problem, cousin?" Kristina looked up from the scraps of textile she had to choose from. Kristina immediately reined in her emotions. She might not be joining the Covenant or even like it, but when a member graced your presence you were to give that member your full attention and of course your respect. Something about Irina made Kristina perturbed. She was beautiful and she was seen as elegant, but there was a cruelness to her. Her facial features were severe and rigid. Reminding Kristina of some kind of sharp glass sculpture. A cold, harsh terrain of beauty and elegance with the looks of something wicked and dark.

"No. I'm just stressing over this bacchanalia." Kristina forced out a smiled. Irina's smile was worst. It was a real one, but looked so unnatural on her face.

Irina sat down on the window seat on the opposite side of Kristina. She patted the side next to her. Kristina stood and took her place beside her. "We're family. So if you need anything I'm here. Even if it's just to talk. We Cassadines need to look out for one another. Especially now." Irina said, stroking Kristina's dark chestnut hair. This felt weird, but also a little nice. Kristina didn't trust Irina, but she didn't mind her presence in this moment. "You know with the return of Samantha, we must be on our guard. She can't be trusted." Kristina nodded heavily. Her anger was still burning fiercely after seeing Molly with her. "I know. She's trying to snake her way into our lives as if the past few years never happened. She's unbelievable. I'm with Nikolas in his rights to the crown. He should have it. She doesn't deserv…." Irina placed a single finger up to Kristina's lips. Stopping her immediately.

Shaking her head, she let her black eyes pierce Kristina's. She was spellbound. "He can't be trusted either, Krissy. Nikolas isn't the man you think him to be." Irina's words were surprising, but her tone was so soothing. "He's a lovelorn fool. Who's entire world revolves around one silly thing." Irina said softly. Kristina was piqued by this. "What?"

Irina giggled and continued to intertwine her fingers in the young girl's hair. "To get revenge on the cousin who denied his advances and then murdered his child in her own disturbed vengeance." Kristina gasped. Then closed her mouth instantly. She felt foolish to not have known. She prided herself on knowing almost everything about their family. Even the ugly stuff.

The fact that she never knew Nikolas use to be in love with Sam made her somewhat irritated. "You see, Krissy. Nikolas' main drive is to make Sam pay, but once he does fulfill this goal, what then?" Kristina knew the question was rhetorical, but couldn't keep herself from responding anyway. "I don't know." Irina was acting like a coddling mother to her in this moment. It was oddly nice. Something she wasn't use to. "He's going to continue his quest to win her heart. He's just as unfit for the throne as she is. He will lead this family into an era of desolation. We need a ruler whose main goal is for the rise of the family. Someone with no ulterior motives. Someone like _me."_

 **PCPD**

 _(Just outside)_

Maya waited patiently until he came out. She no longer felt comfortable walking inside since Lucky's dismissal. Nathan was happy to see her. "How's Lucky?" Was his first question. She was relieved to be able to give him good news. "He's doing better. Much better. I don't know what happened, but he's stopped drinking. He seems focused." They walked toward his car. Nathan turned back around to Maya, who he noticed stopped a few feet behind him. She was staring at the spot they found Valerie. "We're going to find her killer." Maya jumped at the sound of his voice beside her. "Oh...I was just…" She didn't know what she was doing. "I understand. It's hard to deal when you lose someone close to you. Weren't you and Val close?" She heard him ask. Her eyes were still glued on the gruesome spot where Valerie's body was discovered. "Yeah. We were like sisters." Nathan placed his hand on her shoulder. He turned her to face him. Wiping the tears that fell. "Do you have even the slightest of clues who did it?" She asked, hoping for something. Sadly he shook his head.

"Sorry."

His apology was nice, but not comforting.

 **Spencer House**

Lucky sat in front of his desk, looking at the files he had let pile up. His flask sat across from him. He felt the urge to drink, but finally had the power to deny the desire to. Something in him had awakened. He didn't know what, but after the little get together at Kaz Krsnik's house he felt this pull. This urgency. He had been letting things slip through the cracks. One of the biggest things was solving Emily's murder. The case had gone cold and was untouched for some time now, but it was time to reopened it.

 _Thirteen years ago. . ._

Sacha sat across from Emily in the cafeteria of PC high. Emily was blushing and kicking her underneath the table, while Sacha tried her best not to laugh outright. Nikolas, who was of course looking miserable, pulled up a chair to sit. Sacha found it so incredibly adorable how infatuated Emily was with him. She didn't have that with anyone and she wanted it desperately. "So...um, Nikolas?" Emily began, nervously fidgeting as she did. Nikolas stared at her with eyes full of disdain and boredom. "What?" He asked lazily.

Emily sat back to collect her thoughts. Sacha knew she was about to ask him to the winter formal. They had been in school for over a month and Sacha enjoyed everything about it. From the homework to the standardized tests. It was all new to her, and challenging, but she loved it. She was happy her grandfather finally let them go. Well she was, Nik on the other hand….

"Will you go with me to the..um..formal?" Emily asked softly. Nikolas looked from the doe eyed brunette to his cousin and said, "No."

 **Spoon Island**

Everything seemed so different. It had only been ten years but things weren't the same. Rugs had been changed out, curtains had been moved around, and some walls painted. Things her grandfather would have never allowed. Sam found herself heading to the library. It was very dark down the hall she wandered. Not one candle was lit, but Sam liked it that way. It made her feel invisible. Something she sorta craved when she was behind these walls.

When she got to the doors she heard the rustling of papers. She cracked the door open and found Molly surrounded by stacks and stacks of books. Her nose was pressed inside a dusty old book. Sam knew she would be incredibly sharp and inquisitive. She always was as a child and now Sam needed that bright child's help to answer the questions she had swirling around in her head about Mikkos' death.

Before she could enter, a sharp pungent smell flooded her nostrils. She closed the door back and faced whatever it was that was coming straight at her. Catching her off guard, it knocked her off her right off her feet. Grabbing a handful of her hair it started to drag her down the corridor. It was clumsy and bumped into things as it did, but nothing impeded it from it's destination. Wherever that was.

The grip on Sam's hair was powerful. She could feel her scalp being torn from her head. Then...it was gone. It released her from it's grip, letting her head hit the floor. Sam got to her feet immediately. Turning in every direction. Trying to find it. Whatever _it_ was. Nothing. There was nothing.

Suddenly a warm glow from a candle up ahead caught her attention and she made her way to it. Grabbing the person who held up the yellow flame. "What are you?!" She demanded. The pressure from her tight grip forced her nails into the person's skin, causing them to yelp. "What's the matter with you?!" Kris asked, as she looked into her niece's frantic eyes. Scared by what she saw. Sam released her instantly. "I thought… I thought…" She murmured.

 _What had just happened?_

 _What was that?_

"Are you okay, Sam? You're bleeding." Kris was puzzled and becoming even more frightened. Sam's eyes jumped from shadow to shadow before saying, "No."

 **The Laboratory**

Nikolas paced back and forth, anxious. He was distracted and enraged.

 _What was he going to do?_

Was what he repeatedly asked his self. He had to stay calm. This wasn't as bad as it looked. He could fix it. He turned his head to glare at the doctor. "This is all your fault. I blame you." She looked back at him through the glass wall that separated them. Shrugging, she raised her hand to her ear and mouthed, "Sorry. Did you say something?" She could hear him perfectly, but wanted to further irritate him. He slammed his fist against the glass, which forced her to jump back. He could see the fear in her eyes and he thrived off it.

Suddenly his phone rang. He looked at the number. Recognizing it immediately. He answered. "Why, I haven't heard from you in a very long time. How have you been, Mr. Krsnik?"


	7. Chapter 7

**Princesses and Princes**

Kris worked quietly on Sam, disinfecting her wound and even cleaning up the dry blood. When she reached to suture the piece of Sam's scalp that was detached from her head, Sam slapped her hand down. Kris was bewildered by her action.

"Did you suddenly forget who you were treating?"

As soon as she spoke her bruises turned from a dark swollen purple to soft pink. The piece of her scalp that had peeled back also began to reconnect itself. Kris sighed and nodded. Putting down the sutures and closing her bag. "Yeah. I actually did." She said, removing her gloves. "I forgot the great Sacha Cassadine healed far more quicker than the rest of us." Sam could tell she was joking, but could hear a slight bitterness in it.

"So do you know who attacked you?" Kris asked, cleaning up after herself. Sam laughed. "Let me just make a checklist of those who don't want me dead. It should be a lot easier. First and only name: my father." Sam said mockingly. Kris sighed. "I know your sisters nor I want you dead, Sam. This is just all new to us. Give it some time." Sam took her words into consideration, but still couldn't shake the feeling that at least Krissy wanted her heart torn from her chest. It was one of the few ways to kill one of us. Funny, how a Cassadine couldn't live without a heart, while we're simultaneously heartless creatures. The irony was not missed.

Sam looked down at the vintage black medical bag Kris was carrying. Almost surprised by it. "Are you a doctor?" Kris gave her a funny look before, shaking her head. "I forgot. You haven't been here for…" She didn't want to finish her sentence. Sam could see it made her uncomfortable and so she finished for her. "I haven't been here for over ten years." Kris gave her an uneasy smile and nodded. Sam turned from her, she recognized the room they were in. It was no doubt collecting dust now, but Sam remembered a much livelier time that was held here, in the music room. As known as Britta's favorite place.

Sam let her finger hit a key. The sound reverberated throughout the emptiness surrounding them. Kris packed up her unused medical supplies. Sam had to know and knew Kris would answer. No matter how uncomfortable she was.

"Where's Britta?"

This question didn't seem to catch her off guard. It was like she was expecting it. She sighed and stopped what she was doing. "I haven't seen her since I arrived. I know she wouldn't want to see me after what I did to her son, but I at least would like to know how she's doing. We use to be friends and family." Sam could feel herself rambling. She couldn't help it. The guilt was sitting high in this moment. Britta was someone she was raised with. Well her and Nikolas. They were like sisters, but after killing Britta's son, that relationship died.

"She's dead, Sam." Kris' harsh words snapped Sam out of her thoughts and past memories. "What? That can't be. How?" She wasn't one of us; cursed. She was very much human so her dying wasn't as shocking as Mikkos', but it still hit Sam hard. Kris stood and took Sam's hand. Sitting down beside her on the piano bench. "She jumped...from the west tower facing the bluffs. By the time everyone found out what she was planning on doing it was too late. Her body was discovered by Nikolas atop of the rocks below." Anger seeped its way into the coldness inside Sam. She stood, snatching her hand away from her aunt. "Sacha?" Kris called after her, but it didn't stop her. She kept walking until she was out of that room. The darkness around her didn't frighten her. She had to go to her and see for herself.

It was true. Beside the small child's gravestone, was his mother. Her flowers were wilting. It looked so untouched unlike that of her son. No one visited her. Nikolas probably forbade it. He probably hated her for leaving him to grieve alone. He was spiteful that way.

Sam ran from the cemetery that was made up of their human ancestors and toward the gardens they had. Picking the nicest flowers she could grab in a few seconds. Sam didn't care that the thorns on some scratched her hands and arms. Britta deserved the best and she would get it.

It took Sam just a few minutes to get back to Britta's grave. When she got there she saw her father walking by it to the beach below. A piece of her heart broke, seeing his somber expression as he silently moved past the cemetery. Knowing she possibly could be the cause for such a grave face, made her feel worse than she already did. She looked down at Britta and removed the dying flowers, replacing them with a healthy bouquet of vibrant ones. It was the only color this cemetery had in it. Which was a place filled with dull gloomy colors like grey, black, and the occasional white. Britta had a fire about her that Sam loved and now she had the flowers to match that personality. "I'm sorry." Was all she could say to her. That was basically all she was now, a floating body of apologies.

"You can keep it. We don't need your apologies." Sam didn't need to turn around to know who the voice belonged to. "Nathan." Her younger cousin, who was also Britta's baby brother. He was one of the many bastards Victor had, like Irina. Bastards were frowned upon in this family. That didn't stop them from existing though. They were the lowest of the low and being that he was raised with a madman like Faison for a father, he didn't have the best childhood. "What are you doing here? How are you here?" He was obviously shocked by her presence. He didn't know. "Nathan, my exile has been lifted with Mikkos' death. I'm home for good now." He shook his head in disgust. "This is preposterous. This...this.." His bottom lip quavered. His anger was boiling. He could no longer get a sentence out. He threw the pale white flowers he was holding down. "I won't let this stand." Was the last words he said to her before departing. Leaving Sam behind to pick up his fallen flowers and place them on his sister's grave.

 **The Catacombs**

Nikolas rolled his eyes at the appearance of Nathan. He was fuming like a slobbery dog, over the news of Sam's return. His yelling was becoming too much for Nikolas, so he wrapped his hand around the half breed's neck and lift him off the ground. "Would you get a hold of yourself. You're embarrassing." Nathan fought against Nikolas' grip, but they were futile attempts. He wasn't stronger than Nikolas, nor would he ever be.

He stopped fighting and let his feet dangle under him. He felt like some flimsy rag doll being roughly handle by their owner. Something he loathed. He was always reminded of his inferiority with this family. Always.

 _ **Thirteen Years Ago. . .**_

Nathan lay flat on his stomach, making sure he didn't make a sound. He knew if he was found out that he would pay dearly. He was a inquisitive thirteen year old boy, he just wanted to know what was so special about the town called Port Charles. Unlike Sacha and Nikolas' parents, Nathan's mother and father forbid it. They made him and his sister stay to the seclusion of their home, to only be taught by their mother Liesl. Great things they learned from her, like the half goat, half demon, Krampus. Nathan rolled his eyes at such nonsense. He wanted the actual experience of being with other kids his age and not just his irritating older sister.

Nathan made sure to keep quiet as Sacha and her friend came into her bedroom. The girl, Emily, had round brown eyes and long dark brown hair. She was beautiful. She looked upset though. Her eyes held a sadness he could see and her lips were pressed tightly together. Sacha seemed confused.

"What's wrong, Emily?" She didn't understand Emily's silence or sudden awkwardness. "I got Nikolas to agree to go as your date to the winter formal. He was just nervous about the dancing part." Sacha laughed, trying to hide the real reason why he didn't want to go. Which was because he didn't like Emily and also wished Sacha would end their friendship. Emily snorted. "You guys are like actual legit princes and princesses. There's no way you guys can't dance." Emily said incredulously. She still seemed unwilling to share what had her upset. Sacha didn't want to push her and instead smiled. "We know how to dance, but like ballroom dancing and such. Nothing that would be considered cool." Sacha got a smile out of Emily, which made her feel better. "You guys could make anything cool." Sacha could still see her holding back and decided to place her hand on top of Emily's. "Are you going to tell me what's wrong or are we going to keep pretending like everything is fine?" Emily sighed. "Okay."

"Lucky doesn't want to go to the formal anymore. He just isn't himself. It has nothing to do with you being his date. I promise." Emily quickly said that last part. Sacha knew better. He never liked her or Nikolas since they first came to Port Charles High. He was untrusting of them and believed the rumors about their family. Although some were true she wouldn't dare to ever admit it.

"I'm sorry, Sacha. You sealed the deal for me with Nikolas and I couldn't even return the favor for you with Lucky." Sacha smiled for her benefit. "It's okay." It wasn't. She couldn't help, but feel undesirable. Emily started to think and she felt stupid when it came to her. "I can't believe I didn't think of him before." Sacha looked at her perplexed by what she was talking about.

"What?"

Emily grinned widely and said, "My brother Jason can take you."

 **Present**

Nikolas released Nathan. Straightening out his suit jacket and brushing off the little dirt that had gotten onto it. "Now that you're all caught up. I need you to get back working the job I gave you. Or else…" Nikolas let the threat sit in the air between them. Nathan moved past Nikolas. "Or else what?" Nathan prodded. He was obviously upset, but Nikolas didn't care about the weakling's feelings. He was insignificant to Nikolas. Nothing more than a pawn he could use for his own benefit. "Or else it might just slip to the Covenant how you're working for the Port Charles Police Department. You know that's forbidden Nathan. How could you?" Nikolas eyes sparkled with a tinge of darkness. Nathan saw how Nikolas tried to make him bend to his will. He was no menial. "You seem to forget I'm not legally seen as a Cassadine. Your laws don't apply to me, _prince_." He sneered. Nikolas took a step back. Giving his baby cousin a once over. He was much larger than he had remembered. He wasn't the the little kid he once was. Nikolas could see he also knew that, but he was wrong to challenge him. The movement was swift and precise. Nikolas' hand slid across Nathan's cheek so fast and hard, he lost his balance. He spun around and fell into one of the vaults. Blood gushed from his mouth and nose. Nikolas crouched to his level.

"You also must have forgotten the allegiance your family pledged to my family when your sister married me." Nikolas let the scent of his blood hit him. The smell was off-putting. It was like spoiled milk and mildew. He didn't get the appeal their blood had for Sam. "Plus, Let's not forget Sam isn't the only one on this island to murder an innocent. Now is she, Nathaniel?" Nikolas threw a handkerchief his way and stood. Turning to leave he said, "Clean yourself up and get back to work."

 _A Day Later_

 **Welcome To The Black Bacchanalian**

Kristina was anxious, and couldn't keep still. Everything had to be perfect. She made sure to go over every detail before getting ready. She stomped around the castle, hair pinned up, in a black tank top and sweats. Fixing every little thing that wasn't right to her. Which was a lot.

Molly stayed in the library away from all things Krissy. She wasn't upset with her anymore, but knew how she got when things were all about herself. Anyway Molly felt safe in the comfort of her books and in all things fiction. Love was something that was always achieved and the dragons were always slayed. A world where the fight between good and evil was predictable, because good would always win. She lived in a dark world where the monsters were all around her. Even she was one. We sometimes got happy endings, but it was never long-lasting. So love and happiness were two very ambiguous things to her. She so badly yearned for both, but knew it was an impossible goal to accomplish. So instead she took great solace in the made up worlds created by Jane Austen, William Shakespeare, Agatha Christie, Emily Bronte, and so on. They captivated her and she craved to be like that.

" _And Darkness and Decay and the Red Death held illimitable dominion over all_."

Molly looked up. Sam was leaning on the door that opened to the library. She waited for Molly to welcome her in, but she instead stuck her nose back into her book. She took a deep breath and entered anyway.

"That's an unusual thing to be reading on such a day like today." Sam said, marveling at the little Edgar Allan Poe book Molly held tightly in her grip. "I had a dream about it." Molly said quietly as if someone was listening in. Sam saw this and came closer to her. "Don't worry. I last saw Krissy yelling at the staff because someone put plums in the bowl for grapes. She's very…" Molly interrupted her before she could finish. "I'm not worried about Krissy seeing us together. You're the one who came to a place where you're not welcomed." Molly was right. Even though Molly was referring to her presence in the library. Sam did return to place where she was unwelcomed. That was blatantly obvious, but she pushed all that aside. She wanted to talk to her sister. Whether or not her sister wanted to talk to her.

"So tell me about this dream you had. Was it about the book?" Molly was trying to resist the urge to reply, but couldn't help it. What she felt was heavy and foreboding. Too much for her to bear alone. "No. I had a dream about the party tonight." Molly couldn't meet Sam's eyes. She seemed apprehensive. So Sam placed her index and middle finger under her chin, raising her face toward hers. She gasped when she finally looked into Molly's eyes. They were as red as rubies. "Someone's going to die."

Kristina didn't let her little grievance from earlier upset her further. She just made sure to focus on the last few details. Which were her dress and seeing Philip after being away from each other for nearly a month. He had family matters to handle back in Greece and it took up more time than they both expected. Tonight would officially be their reunion. Hopefully a better one than the recent one she just had.

Kristina touched her engagement ring for the second time that day and sighed. Lost in thought, Krissy wasn't aware of the presence behind. Hands immediately pulled her in. Her scream turned into laughter, as the intruder began to tickle her sides. She turned to face her assailant and screamed once more, but this time with glee instead of fear. "Philippos!" She embraced him back. He smelled just like their last time together. "Oh, how I've missed your beautiful face." He squeezed her tighter. Planting kisses on her face and along her neck. She buried her face into his neck to cover her giggle. He was warm, he was safe, and he was handsome. Yet, she felt perturb by this newfound stability.

Patrick redid his tie for the one-hundredth time that hour. He could feel the sweat pool on his forehead and tension pull his back muscles. He was losing it. He couldn't calm himself and he knew what would happened if he didn't get a handle on things.

"Relax. It's not a big deal. You're just going to small shindig with a couple of your girl's family members. Chill." The harsh cruel laughter filled his head.

 _Who are you kidding? You know you won't be able to control it. Bail. While there's still time, Paddy._

Patrick ignored him. He wasn't going to bail on Sam. Not like his father bailed on him. Everything would be fine. It would.

A soft knock on his motel door caught his attention. He stopped fumbling with his tie and went to answer it. Before him stood the sexiest woman he had ever met. "You look good, Sammy." He remarked. Not caring if she noticed his eyes lingering too long on her firm body. She smiled and stepped in. Reaching for his undid tie. He blushed feeling a bit embarrassed. "You too, Drake. Well, after this." He watched her as she perfectly executed something he struggled with for the past hour or so, without breaking a sweat. "You ready, partner?" She asked, kissing him gently on the cheek. He released an anxious breath and replied, "Now that you're here I am."

The castle was lit up wall to wall by brightly glowing torches. Giving it an eerie outer appearance. It truly resembled Bran's Castle, so much so, guests couldn't help, but get jitters from the many shadows the torches casted upon the castle grounds. Some, scared Dracula himself would appear before them. The turnout was far better than they had all expected. Almost every noble family came out in honor of princess Kristina Mikkosovna Cassadine and prince Philippos of Greece and Denmark.

This made Kristina anxious. "They probably just accepted their invitation to see the freak and former exiled of Greece together." Kristina whispered to Philip. He bumped her. "It's not very nice to call your fiancé a freak." He whispered back, as they both continued to smile and shake the hands of the royals that approach them. "Haha. You're so funny. I'm being serious, Philip. After what happened with my mother and sister and then with Nikolas' wife, people look at us differently." Kristina said, feeling the gawking eyes of a few. "And not to be mean, but after Greece abolished the monarchy and exiled your family…" Kristina let her words trail off as Philip placed a finger on her lips. Silencing her and causing her to stare into his warm brown eyes. "Krissy?" He said her name so softly and yet so seductively. It made Kristina bite her lower lip to keep from kissing him. "I don't care. I don't care what any of these judgemental assholes think. I love you and tonight we're going to show them all what real love is. It's you and me, babe. Nothing else matters." Somehow his words of encouragement were always able to help her. She felt a little nervous, but with him by her side she felt strong enough to handle them all.

And so the night began.


	8. Chapter 8

**The Black Parade**

Sam securely placed the thinly handcrafted black masquerade mask over her face and so did Patrick. She couldn't hold back the laugh that escaped. "You look like Bruce Wayne." She said. He straighten his tie and placed his hands on his waist. "That would be Batman my beautiful girl. Bruce Wayne didn't wear a mask." She walked over to him and placed her hand on his chest. "He also was a lot richer and sexier in the mask." She teased. He placed his hands over his heart and grimace. "Oh, how you hurt me." Sam touched his face and frowned. "In there it will be a lot worst." Patrick took a more serious turn. He held her face in his hands and gently kissed her lips. "Babe, with you by my side I have nothing to fear."

 **Many centuries ago**

"Brother, with you by my side have nothing to fear." Sandor rested his hand on his younger brother's shoulder. Feeling united more than ever before. Vladimir was his most trusted and his most loyal swordsman. He loved and adored him. He was also jealous of him. Vladimir had a freedom he didn't have. Vladimir wasn't look upon for anything. No one expected anything from him. He was free to do as he pleased. Something Sandor so desperately wanted. He loved his wife and his children, but there was once another. A girl from the village below their castle, who he loved, but his duty to his family was to make a strong alliance with a another noble Russian family. So he did and he had since let that girl from the village go.

"Don't worry, brother. I will always be by your side." Vladimir promised. Sandor smiled and released his grip on him. As they headed into the most fearsome battle they had ever seen, Sandor felt safer than ever. Not suspecting at all on what his brother was up to.

 **Present**

Kristina, on the arm of her fiancé, stepped out onto the floor. Arm and arm they were attached. Sam could see the love in her eyes and in his. She was happy for her little sister. She was, but Molly's harrowing words about death caused her to panic. She looked from Krissy to Molly, who was standing over in the corner by the large bay window. Instead of wearing a traditional masquerade mask, she wore sunglasses. Her eyes were still a little pink and even with the dull lights that illuminated the room it still bothered her. Sam did her best to help. Molly was of course resistant out of some respect for Krissy, but she did finally give in. Their father found them and helped as well. He didn't even seem surprised by this. It was obviously their mutual secret. Something she respected and was a bit jealous of. Her...their father seemed closest to Molly out of her and Kristina. He stood close to her now. Not on top of her to seem like he was hovering, but just close enough to be there for her.

"We would like to thank you all for joining us tonight on this very special occasion." Philip started, meeting the eye of each and every guest there. Most found it charming, but others like Nik couldn't help, but roll his eyes. The little prince was trying too hard for Krissy's sake. It was nauseating. Nik, instead glared at his cousin from across the room. Sam felt his distinctively heavy eyes on her. She wouldn't let him shame her away.

Did she feel bad for what she did? Every damn day, but she was tired of letting it take over her life. No more. She met his heavy gaze with a much softer one. He scowled at this and turned away.

"Kristina is the love of my life." Philip continued, "And I hope she feels the same." This caused a small laughter out of the crowd. Kristina elbowed him and kissed him. "Of course I do." She whispered against his lips. He raised his drink in excitement. "I'm happily to announce my beautiful fiancée does in fact love me. Let's just hope she still feels this way on our wedding night." Kristina's face turned bright red, while a small rowdy bunch, who Sam guessed were the groomsmen, egged him on. "Okay, now join us in a dance." Philip quickly said, as he pulled Krissy into his arms. She buried her face into his chest and he smiled. "I'm going to kill you." She whispered with tight lips. "You're so dead. I hope you know that." Kristina was mortified. "As long as I get to die in the arms of the most beautiful woman I'll die a happy man." She groaned and buried her face deeper into the fabric of his suit, but not before he caught a small smile on her face.

When the traditional Greek music started to play, this was Sam's time to groan and be embarrassed. Patrick seemed a bit tense, but she assumed it was from not understanding what was going on. "What's wrong?" He asked, a little confused. Sam waved her hand at the dance floor, where all her Greek relatives started to gather in pairs. "Ballos. It's a Greek dance and…" Sam was silenced by the memory of a dance she shared with another so long ago. Memories were like that, one second you were living in the present, and next a familiar scent or photo could send you reeling into another time. Sometimes another life. Sam felt that past creep up on her. One she had thought was closed off forever, but what was forever when you were immortal?

"And?" Patrick lightly pressed. Wondering where her head was at, while hoping she didn't notice his reaction to being surrounded by a room full of unsuspecting innocent guests. They didn't know who they were standing next to, who they were drinking and sharing laughs with. They didn't know they could die at any moment. They also didn't know in a room full of immortal beings that could take your life as easy as taking a sip of water, he still was the most deadliest person at this party.

"And it's a dance for two people. Would you like to dance with me, Dr. Drake?" Patrick smiled and wrapped his arms around her. She made him feel relaxed and forget for small moments at a time. She was this intoxicating drug, that made his dark memories gray, and his happy ones even more vibrant. "I would love to, Sammy." He lower his head to taste her seductive lips. Before they could walk out onto the floor to join the other guests, who already started to dance, they were stopped.

"Aren't you too just the cutest?" Nikolas said, smiling at his cousin's stern expression and her date's confused one. "Cousin? Why on earth haven't you introduced this fine suitor to the family? I'm sure they will be just as interested in how you two met, as I am." Sam knew what he suspected and he would be correct. She had broken another law and went into town. Knowing Port Charles was off limits to all Cassadines after the bloodbath she caused. It was the deal the Covenant broke with the three big families that lived there. No more bloodshed if we kept to the agreement. Which of course Sam didn't.

Nikolas lured them over to where her father, their grandmother and more from their family were gathered. Krissy was with her fiancé surrounded by guests, but her eyes were firmly on them from across the room. Probably wondering what was going on and how it would affect her party.

Stefan smiled softly and bowed his head a bit when Sam came close enough. Nikolas glared at his uncle. He was greeting Sam like she was royalty, when she was nothing more than a stain on their family's name.

Patrick leaned in to shake Stefan's hand and Nikolas blocked their exchange. "No need to trouble yourself with the family mute. He's not worth your time…" Nikolas stopped, staring up at Patrick not sure what to call him. "His name is Patrick and my father is absolutely worth his time." Sam said, brushing past Nikolas, letting the cold chill that sat between them hit him, like cold water hitting a nerve. He felt it and flinched as if she caused him pain. This upset him greatly. After all these years she could still somehow manifest how more powerful she was than him.

"Patrick, this is my father. Stefan Cassadine." She nodded toward the silent older man that sat in the heavy shadows. Who was simply listening to it all. Patrick felt unsteady on his feet and a little queasy, but he couldn't let them know. He couldn't let her know. "Papa, this is Patrick, my date." Stefan outstretched his arm to a man, he had never seen before….but suddenly he realized the man was familiar in the face. One he had seen so long ago. One he thought to be dead.

 _Was he seeing things now?_

Patrick gripped his hand and shook it gingerly. Which caused Stefan some wonder.

 _Why was the young man so anxious?_

 _What was he hiding?_

Sam looked around in search of a face she knew so well amongst the crowd. Frowning when she didn't see it. "Where's Mrs. Hurst? I haven't seen her in a couple days." Nikolas rolled his eyes. "Who knows where the old bat is up to. Hopefully she did the smart thing and chose a more suitable and welcoming home." Sam didn't let him spark anger within her. She just kept her attention on the matter at hand. "So where did you say you were from, Patrick?" Nikolas began to grill. Sam knew if Patrick let slip that he was a doctor from Port Charles her family would implode. Madness would ensue and take over the collapsing party. They would be out for blood. _Her_ blood. Her precious blood they all wanted to have and yet were all afraid of spilling.

Patrick felt his throat began to tighten and tried his best to loosen his tie. The air around him became dense and his breathing more labored. His hand started to slightly tremble as he stared down each guest that surrounded him. He felt like they were getting closer when they hadn't moved an inch. Sweat started to slide down his back. All he could do was to hold onto Sam a little tighter for support.

 _Knew you couldn't do it._

 _I told you. You should've just bailed._

"Shut up." Patrick mumbled. Sam looked up at him, as did the rest of her family. "Is there something wrong, young man?" Helena asked, feeling herself getting intrigued by her granddaughter's handsome, yet peculiar, date. "He's fine." Sam answered for him when he didn't respond. "Doesn't look like it from our end, Sacha." Sam's uncle Victor chimed him. He had a young brunette on his right arm and a redhead on his left. Their dresses were more revealing than they should be for such a formal event. No doubt they were more than likely escorts. Nothing had changed with him. "Shouldn't you be more worried about protecting your declining wealth from your bastards looking for handouts?" Sam snapped. Victor laughed and took another sip of his drink. "That does remind me. Where's that darling niece of mine? Irina?" He wandered off into the growing crowd. Helena seemed unfazed. Her eyes still lingered on Patrick and his increasingly unstable appearance.

Sam didn't even give his response a another thought and focused all her attention on Patrick. "What's wrong?" She reached for his arm and he wrenched it away from her. "Patrick?" He could see the fear in her eyes and he couldn't take it. "I can't do this. I can't be with you." Without another word he turned and bolted for the doors. Leaving Sam behind, in a sea full of wondering eyes and with a bruised heart.

 **The Tunnels of Wyndemere**

Her skin scraped against the walls as she fell into the cobwebs in a darken mold covered corner. Mrs. Hurst gritted her teeth as the searing pain started to throb in her shoulder. She still had the camera she had brought with her, but had no clue if the SD card would still work. Especially not after dropping it into that puddle. Her word would be good enough for Sam, but what she had filmed would give her the proof she needed. She knew this island was just as evil as it was when they use the blood and bones of the past residents to build it. This place was literally Hell, built to seat the child of Apollyon to cause havoc and bloodshed.

Nikolas had a lot of secrets hidden away beneath the catacombs. Ones he wouldn't want getting out. He was a righteous indignant bastard that needed to be exposed for the monster he truly was. She knew not telling Sam of his crime from all those years ago was her part in the downfall of the poor girl she considered her own. She had to make it up to her. First, by starting with a doctor called, Robin Scorpio, one who Nikolas was holding against her will.

Kristina smiled and formally greeted her guests, as she slowly slipped away from them. It was becoming stressful putting on a act when she was distressed by what she had just witnessed with her sister's date. She made her way right over to her. "What was that?" Kristina said through gritted teeth. Her hand wrapped around Sam's wrist squeezing it. Sam wanted to go after Patrick. She had to see what was wrong. "Remove your hand from my wrist." She said, trying her best to keep calm. Kristina didn't and instead squeezed tighter. "I won't let you ruin my party with your foolish drama. You weren't even invited. I swear you're like a black cloud hanging over this family. You just can't let us be happy." Kristina let her words sink in and Sam could feel how much she believed it to be true. "You should've have been executed with our whore mother." Sam couldn't bare it any longer. Twisting the arm Kristina had tightly grasped to dig her nails into Kristina's arm. She groaned in pain. Trying her best to muffle the scream she wanted to let escape her lips. When Kristina finally released Sam's arm, she spun Krissy around and shoved her up against the wall with her right arm firmly being pushed upward into her back. "I don't have time for your bullshit, Krissy. I'm over taking your pissy attitude too." This time Krissy let a yelp escape her mouth. "You either get over it or stay out of my fuckin way." Molly ran to their side. "Let her go." Molly urged. "Please." Sam rolled her eyes and sighed, releasing Krissy at once. Her face was the color of a bing cherry. From embarrassment and from anger. She wanted to strike Sam, but knew not to. Sam was much stronger than her and she knew it would be unwise to challenge her. Especially not here. There was a time and place for everything. This wasn't it.

Stefan made his way over to his girls. He could easily read their faces. A confrontation just had happened between them. He perfectly signed to Molly. " _What happened?"_ Molly pressed a hand to her temple. A headache was forming. "Nothing, father. It's over." She spoke to him. Sam didn't spare another look on her increasingly frustrating younger sister. She headed toward the door, but not before she was stopped by man she had never seen before.

"Hello, I'm Kaz Krsnik. I've been dying to meet you."

Kristina glowered at her sister and father when they offered her a hand. She straightened out her gown and looked around to see if anyone noticed the altercation. Thankfully they didn't. Philip was dancing with his mother and very occupied. She was grateful for that. "I don't need, nor want, help from either of you. I will repay your favorite daughter for this. I promise you that." Kristina left them to swallow her words. Stefan felt useless. He didn't know how to stop what was sure to come. Molly hugged his arm. "Don't worry. It's not your fault."

Irina lips brushed against the neck of some Italian aristocrat she had just met that night. She was tall and lean, with a slight tan. Her eyes were a smooth emerald with hints of topaz. Her dark hair was pulled back into a bun and Irina felt the need to unpin it and wrap the thick cascading locks around her hand. She was a work art.

Irina let her hands slide over the girl's body. They were outside on the balcony, overlooking the bluffs. The night had just begun and her mouth was already on her breast. The girl, whose name had slipped her mind simply because she didn't ask, hung her head back as she purred like a kitten. Irina's teeth grazed her harden nipple. Breaking skin and letting the blood seep from the open cut. Irina smiled at the beautiful sight. "Please." The beauty begged, breathing harder than before. Irina treasured the look on her dinner's face. It was one of desperation and longing."Gladly." She replied, latching on and feeding from the supple breast.

Blood poured into her mouth and the taste was sensational. Rich and smooth like that of dark chocolate. She let her index and thumb slip down to the girl's clean shaved mound and slowly worked her way inside. She was cumming more times than Irina could count. This power she willed over her was exhilarating. So much so she didn't even hear her cousin walk upon them.

"Are you enjoying yourself, Irina?" Irina lift her head to come face to face with Kristina. Blood clung to the corners of her mouth. She didn't bother to clean her face and instead slid her fingers from out between the girl's soaked thighs. Sliding them into her mouth to taste her dessert. "Mmmm, sweet. Tastes just like candy." Kristina did her best to hide her revulsion at Irina's crude behavior. "Go get yourself cleaned up." Irina ordered the dark haired beauty. The girl's face was flushed from embarrassment and from the erotic scene that just unfolded between them. She quickly bowed to Kristina and slipped away. Irina watched her go.

"So? Are you going to answer me?" Kristina turned Irina's attention back to her. Irina sighed and dropped her eyes onto the bothersome child. "And what question was that again?" Kristina stepped forward. "Are you enjoying yourself?" Irina smiled at the question. Curious as to why Kristina was asking it. "Of course I am. I just had some of the most exquisite blood from such a tedious party." Irina said, now wiping her blood stained mouth with her thumb. Kristina walked closer to her. She could smell the fresh blood on her lips. It was heavenly and made her ravenous. Irina's smile grew. "You lied to me."Kristina finally said. Irina was obviously confused.

"What?" She said with a laugh.

Kristina took step back. The smell from the blood was distracting her.

"I know Nikolas isn't, nor was he ever in love with Sam. See, I knew you were full of shit, but you needed me to look the part of the shocked, dismayed, younger sister. So I did." Irina was now taking a step back. Kristina smirked.

"I had to confirm my suspicion of your story of course and was so damn pleased to know that I was right about you. So I won't be backing you in your campaign. Nikolas is my chosen prince. And to Hell with you and that blight to our happiness I must call sister." Kristina grasped the sides of her long plum gown and started to walk away. Irina grabbed her arm. "Think again about what you just said to me. I'm a Covenant member and I'm family." Irina eyes turned as black as the night. Kristina didn't fear her though. She shook off the tight hold Irina had on her and laughed. "I have no choice, but to respect you as a Covenant member. But you're not a part of my family." Then Kristina left her.

Irina violently shook. She could feel one of her fits coming on and just embraced it. Clawing at her face and tearing pieces of fabric off the suit she had chosen to wear. Her fists smashed into the hard cement balustrades that aligned her path. She screamed into the night until she couldn't anymore. Streams of blood spilled from her open cuts down her face, looking as though she was crying blood. Pain was her friend, like the Darkness was the Night's.

Hands gripped her shoulders. Pulling her off her knees and from the spot where she collapsed to. "Pull yourself together, child." Victor said, shaking her. Irina bursted into tears. "Father, I've failed you." She cried. Victor stopped shaking her and pulled her into his arms. "There, there. I'm sure it's not as bad as you think it is." He cooed. Stroking her disheveled pale blonde hair. "It is. I don't know how I'm going to fix this." She sobbed heavily. Victor stopped stroking her hair and pulled her body away from his. He let his hand fly across her cheek. Shocking her. "Get it together. You promised me you could do this." Irina nodded. "I can. I can."

Victor gave her a sigh of relief. Holding her once more. "And you will." Irina let his words fill her. Giving her the confidence she needed to accomplish the goal. Victor wanted the throne and she would give it to him.


	9. Chapter 9

**THE BUTTERFLY EFFECT**

One single event can change the tide in many events to come.

 **The War Front**

Sandor looked at the men that had all sworn their blood to him. In each one of their eyes he saw some amount of fear. Fear of never seeing their wives and children again. He also had that very same fear, but before them he was gallant and charming. Hoping to calm the nerves of his men. He did help many, while others were more focused on what was to come. His brother though, was silent and reserved. He had no fear in his eyes. There was actually nothing in the blackness of his eyes. It was almost as if he was looking into depths of his soul. A part of him, he had never saw and it actually sent chills down his spine.

How could he not notice his brother, his shadow, was much colder than the winter's wind that surrounded them. He had overlooked him for some time, but in the midst of war he could now see him. His little brother was harboring much more than just simple anger. He was holding onto a rage that, unsuppressed, could burn down whole villages.

 **Present Day**

Kaz twirled Sam around the smooth dance floor. Her body pressed against his. She kept up with each of his deliberate turns and adjustments. Her body was firm, but still very supple. She was like that of a rare butterfly. One of supreme beauty, but with a roughness to it. She was magnificent. She was everything his father said she would be. He now just needed to see more it for himself.

He watched her carefully. She could feel his eyes on her like a cat watching it's prey. She met his gaze. Not intimated by the mysterious Kaz Krsnik. He finally spoke and what he said shocked her.

"You have my vote, my Queen."

She didn't understand him. He was very peculiar, and definitely not in a good way. "Do you always call women you dance with "queens"? Is that some way to get laid faster?" She spoke nonchalantly. Hoping to keep her true curiosity undetected. "No." He said, spinning her. "Just to you, because you are a Queen. I want to help you see that and take back what's yours." Her eyes didn't leave his face. He was sincere about what he was saying, but Sam couldn't shake the feeling he was not being completely forthright. Which meant he wasn't. She just didn't know about what. "You speak as if I'm in battle." She laughed. He pulled her in and dipped her. Letting her stay down longer than he should have. "Why, my Queen, you are. Nikolas is planning on getting you exiled again, just so there won't be any competition for that title." He pulled her back up. Their faces were inches from each other. His breath was sweeter than humanly possible. There was also a hint of mint. "He can't." She quickly said. Afraid of that very thought. She knew he would try to get her sent away again. He would do anything to hurt her. "He can." He corrected.

 **Falcon Cove Beach**

Patrick loosen his tie and pulled it over his head. He couldn't breathe. He unbuttoned the top half of his shirt. Letting the cold air hit his chest. He was back on the small beach he had brought Sam to. He couldn't stop thinking about her. He had abandoned her to face the wolves alone. He just couldn't bear it. The intensity of the crowd and the overwhelming feeling it brought him.

He had the mask this time. What an ugly thing it was. The beak was wide and long. Hanging over, almost like a trunk, but not nearly as long. He wasted no time in putting it on and inhaling. His eyelids twitched and his eyes rolled to the back. The fumes were intoxicating. He collapsed. Falling onto his back. Memories of long ago shifted and took shape within his head.

The faces of his victims danced around within his head. Approximately thirty-six of them. Happy ones that turned to dread. He didn't mean for it to happen, but he couldn't control this. This…. _disease._

When he opened his eyes they were there, on the beach with him. Decaying, and drooling blood. Blood was actually seeping from their ears, noses, and the corners of their eyes.

"Mis hermosos ángeles sangrientos."

 **PCPD**

Lucky stood outside the building. Not sure if he should go in or not. He wanted to, but didn't feel like he had the right to. He didn't know how long he had been standing there before Mac showed up, he just knew it had to be awhile since his legs were starting to fall asleep.

"You coming or going?" Mac asked, standing beside him as they both looked at the doors. "I'm not sure." He replied. Mac now looked at him. "I think you should come in." Lucky felt hesitant, but looked up at him. "You sure? I could be drunk right now and make another scene." He was being sarcastic, but still ccouldn't keep himself from feeling embarrassed by his past behavior. Mac lift his hand and placed it on Lucky's shoulder.

"And yet you're not. You look better than you have in months." Lucky nodded to this. He agreed. He felt better to. What Kaz told him at his party replayed over and over again in his head.

" _I can help you solve Emily's murder, but you first must do something for me….trust no one. Not your fiancée, nor your best friend. Just me. Trust in me and all of your problems will be solved."_

And so he did, or so he let him believe he did.

"Okay. I'm ready."

 **Wyndemere**

Mrs. Hurst followed her tracks from the way she came. Back out in the hall she was able to breath again. She was running off adrenaline and needed to catch her breath. She needed to process everything she heard and saw.

Nikolas was running experiments in the crypts underneath Wyndemere. He was also holding a doctor hostage. He was planning something and it seemed he had been planning it for some time now. She didn't know what he was up to, but this was enough for now. This would hopefully get Sam away from here. She could spend her time somewhere else. Somewhere far far away and safe. Spoon Island was no longer her home. She had to see that.

A noise startled Mrs. Hurst. She tighten her grip on the SD card she was holding. Her eyes darting from side to side. The darkness seemed to be creeping up on her. It was like it was becoming her shadow. Attaching itself to her. Being surrounded by nothing, but blackness she was able to spot the movements within it. Someone or something was moving around her. Circling her.

She pressed her back against the closest corner and waited for it to attack. Fear started to seep into her bone. Causing her heart to pace and for a cool bead of sweat to form on her forehead. She was a difficult person to scare. She had lived amongst people who barely aged and lived off the blood of another. She had seen things. _Many_ things and she was still alive to tell the harrowing stories and see another day, but this was different. It didn't feel right.

A flickering light caught the corner of her eye. She turned her head to see the warm glow of a candle...no a lighter. It was flicking on and off. The closer it got, the bigger the flame got. She could now make out a hand and then a arm. Soon she was able to see a body. One dressed in all black. _A man!_

He lift the lighter to his face, letting the flame beam off his smooth olive skin. She now knew who it was and it made her mouth go dry. She straighten her back and stared him directly in the eyes.

"What do you want, Valentin?"

From across the room Nikolas watched Kaz and Sam closely. He couldn't figure out what Kaz would want with her. This wasn't a part of their deal. None of it was. While he kept his eyes on them, Kristina came up beside him.

"I'm sick of seeing her face. She needs to be gone. Soon." He could tell his little cousin was fuming. He smiled at her persistence. He was happy that she was on his side. She didn't hold any weight with their family, but she did have the back of the human royal court. He would need that. "In due time, cousin. In due time." He said, turning his attention on his favorite pet, who was lurking in the background. She smiled when she noticed his eyes on her. "When? She's been here long enough." Kristina said, irritated. He sighed. She was now becoming a real pain. "When it's time. Things like this can't be rushed, Krissy. When the proper time comes, she'll be gone and our family will once again be a happy one." Nikolas was just about to head over to his daring lover, when the coughing started.

It was just a small group, but the coughing got louder. People started to close in on their loved ones and dates, trying to figure out the problem. Then came the blood. It poured from every orifice it could possibly find. Even the skin began to sweat it. A loud scream was released and a mass hysteria began.

The sweet smell hit her hard. It was like someone had opened a oven full of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies. She Immediately halted her dance with Kaz, causing him to stumble and release her. She turned in the direction the smell was coming from and saw the terror began. Blood was everywhere, as well as terror. The people affected started to drop to their knees or in the arms of those closest to them. Screaming and crying had begun. Some people started to run. Confusion and disorder took over and Sam was now being pushed into the middle of the floor.

"KRISTINA!"

She heard Philip shout. He was as hysterical as the crowd was. Panic was the overall emotion.

"Kristina? Baby, where are you?!" His voice was now cracking.

Sam tried to get a hold of herself as she looked for her father and Molly. The crowd was becoming overwhelming and quickly turned into a stampede. Once you fell you were immediately stomped on. Some tried to help their family get to safety, but the crowd was too strong and they either were pushed forward or thrown to the ground.

Sam could feel the back of her throat start to burn. She held her breath and kept herself from breathing it in, while moving through the sea of people. A hand caught her leg and she froze. It was an old lady. One very familiar. Then it hit her, it was none other than Queen Elizabeth, covered in blood. Blisters and boils consumed her body as she exhaled her last breath.

Sam crouched down beside her, confirming her death, but also dipping her fingers in the pool of blood. She pulled it up to her nose, taking in it's heavenly scent. Then placing her fingers in her mouth. The thirst was unbearable and she felt herself lean in closer. When suddenly hands were on her shoulder.

Shame filled her and she looked up to see Kristina staring back down at her with a face full of disgust. One swift movement Kristina shoved her face into the old woman's corpse. "Seems you prefer the dead over the living. Now rejoice in it." Sam struggled a bit before she finally took in some of the old woman's blood. Her eyes instantly shifted from their normal brown to completely black. She grabbed Kristina's hand and stood. With all her strength she wrapped her hand around Kristina's neck. Squeezing as tight as she could. Kristina fought against her grip trying to breathe.

"And you like to test those growing impatient of your childish games."

Sam was pushed aside by Molly. "Stop!" She shouted.

Stefan immediately helped Sam up. Her face was covered in blood. She felt the embarrassment inside her grow. She had let the monster within come out. Something she never wanted, but didn't have a choice.

"Of course, you help your favorite daughter." Kristina said, trying to catch her breath. She didn't even spare a glance at Sam. Their father was irate. His hands were moving so quickly, Molly looked confused as to what he was saying. Kristina didn't even bother to try and decipher. She just lowered her head in respect.

"He's upset with you Kristina." Molly finally said. Stefan handed Sam his handkerchief and helped her clean off the mess. "Oh, wow. Really? As if I couldn't figure that out myself. Thanks, Molly. You're a real help." Molly didn't reply to her remark. She simply pushed her sunglasses up. When she did, Sam remembered Molly had predicted someone would die. Just not this many people.

"Enough!"

The voice caught them all off guard. It was Reuben. He was holding the body of a fallen. They were perplexed by his reaction. Then they saw who the grieving man was holding ; his daughter, Rania. She was covered in sore and in a puddle of her own blood. She looked just like the others. "This is impossible. This isn't right." He murmured repeatedly to himself. He looked up at them with tears in his eyes. "Her heart is still intact. How can she be dead?"

The room had cleared. Cassadines from every corner slowly crept from the depths of the shadows they hid amongst during the stampede. Nikolas was the first to say something. "This...all of this," Nikolas lifted his hands to take in the destruction, "Is all her fault." Sam didn't need to look at him to know he was pointing at her. "She has brought this devastation upon us, like a plague. She will eventually be our family's downfall."

Their eyes met and she could see nothing, but pure hatred in his. It was overwhelming. "We can't let this opportunity pass us by. I say we reinstate her exile and get on with our lives." Sam now noticed who he was directing his little speech to. The Covenant was here. All nine members. Three for each division stood before them. Some old and still fashioned by the time they were born in. Others, like Irina, much younger and much more ambitious. Everyone had an agenda. Sam just didn't know who would benefit from her leaving.

"I stand with my sworn prince. He has a point. None of this had begun until Natasha's spawn came back." Amelia Cassadine, from Greece said. She was as ancient as Rome. Her skin was like wax paper and her hair like wisps of white cotton candy. Her grandson, Markos, stood behind her. He gripped her wheelchair gingerly. He was very protective over the old bat and fiercely loyal.

Reuben didn't argue against this. His arms were full of death and blood. He couldn't even hear his old thoughts, let alone the words of the others. Sam looked from him to the rest of them. They all seemed deadlocked on this decision. Irina smiled. "Shall we send the cursed princess packing or to the death she should've had alongside her whore mother." Irina tapped her chin lightly, as if she had final call.

Stefan stepped forward shaking his head. "Move aside mute. You have no power here." Nikolas said laughing.

"I say we stick a fire poker through her heart and rip it from her chest!" Someone from the small crowd yelled.

"How about we dismember her and sail each piece to the four corners of the earth!" Another chimed in.

The crowd turned like the tide, all in Nikolas favor and against her. Sam took in each horrible suggestion and it made her heart break. This was her family and they all blamed her for this. The anger inside filled her, touching every nerve in her body. She silently walked over to Mikkos large that hung just above the grand fireplace. Standing before it, she straighten her back.

"You will not touch a hair on my head." She said loud enough for them all to hear. A silence swept over them. Nikolas moved out into the open. Standing across from her. "And why is that?" He asked, curious to her response. She didn't disappoint. "You're not our king, prince." She spat. He flinched at her harshness. "I have as much of a right to that throne as you and I plan to sit upon it." Rueben was now staring at her, with tears in his eyes. They all were. "I'm officially putting myself in the game and I will win."

 **Centuries ago**

The battle was nearly over. They were victorious. Sandor was feeling more and more confident in every enemy he had cut down with the swiftness of his sword. Cutting them in whole halves. Then decapitating their heads for prizes to be mounted along the walls enclosing his kingdom. His men were quick and efficient. Their families would be proud. He surely was.

House Rurik was nearly destroyed and Vladimir watched it from the shadows of his brother's light. Sandor would receive the glory and the praises. He was their strong and capable king that tore down an entire house. While he, Vladimir, was the inscrutable younger brother. A halfwit to some and a spare part to others. His anger filled him. Boiling the nerves within. He was tired of this. He raised his sword, rushing toward an enemy heading in his direction, with one swift movement he sliced off his head. While in the process also decapitating his beautiful brother's.

Looking around to see if any of their men noticed. He quickly grabbed the sword of the enemies and smeared it with the blood of his older brother's. Stabbing himself to make it seem like it was a fierce fight. Once he was done he fell to his knees. Letting this foreign feeling take over him . He wept.

The battle was over. They had won.

 **Present Day**

Sam sat at her desk in her room. Feeling the pressure more than ever now. She had given her bid for the throne and others were finally taking notice of her. Seeing her for more than the troublesome child that caused a massacre over a decade ago for the love of a human. Now she had to prove to them she had truly changed. She just didn't know if that was true.

She opened the lower drawer of her desk. Pulling out the brown leather diary that belonged to her mother. "I miss you so much." She whispered to the cover, running her fingertips across the smooth surface.

She flipped the book open. Looking at the first page.

 _September 21, 1988_

This damn island is my punishment.

It's been some weeks since I seduced my brother Stefan at his bacchanalia. I just wanted to cause some trouble for my father. Make him look like a fool in front of the Covenant. It would be his prize for giving me to a man I absolutely loathe. But…

That has backfired on me. Now I'm stuck on a giant rock, pregnant, and soon to be wed to a man I don't love.

I hate my father more than anything

Stefan is all too happy to marry me. He believes this was fate, because he's always loved me. Love that surpasses the conventional love a brother should have for a half sister. He's a fool. I think I hate him just as much as I hate my father.

Him, for begging father for this. When our father still planned on marrying me to the prestigious Duke of York. Now I'm stuck with him and this island until the arrival of this abomination. I pray I miscarry in the night. That way, I would be rid of it and would no longer need to marry that dignified brother of mine.

So this entry is like a prayer or wish, you may call it. To you my beautiful Apollyon. Please rid my body of this leech and get me the hell off this island.


	10. Chapter 10

**WE LIVE AND DIE BY THE SWORD**

Lucky sat at his desk, slightly tapping his pen, his mind elsewhere. He was suppose to be focusing on the case Mac had given him, but how could he when it was just a simple assault and battery. He was a detective and this was rookie work. He knew he was on probation for his blatant drunkenness, but this was a too great of a punishment. It reminded him of that night Emily died. It was their formal and she was only fifteen years old. A child amongst monsters and easily corrupted. Nikolas Cassadine knew this and took a advantage of it. Lucky would never forget that night or what he walked in on.

 _Thirteen years ago. . ._

Lucky was now annoyed with himself. His plan to keep Emily from going to the formal with Nikolas didn't work. She still found a date for Sacha; her brother Jason Quartermaine. He was a senior and quite popular. Lucky hated himself for thinking this plan would work. He just wanted her to choose him.

Why was that so hard?

He knew her desire for Nikolas outweighed whatever love she had for him. Nikolas was a tantalizing enigma. He could blow her house down with one single breath and Emily would still find the man of mystery incredibly erotic. While Lucky was nothing, but a good friend. Someone she saw as safe and uncomplicated.

He sighed and got off his bed. He got the tux, he had tucked away in his closet, out. In a matter of minutes he was dressed and ready to go. He was going to finally tell Emily he was in love with her. Hopefully she would see him as something more. As someone she could possibly be with.

When he got downstairs his father stopped him. "Where are you off to, cowboy?" Luke asked him, curiosity filling him. Lucky smiled. He felt extremely confident in his decision. So with no qualms he told his dad. "I'm going to tell Emily how I really feel about her." Luke pressed a firm grip on his shoulder. "Atta boy. You go get your girl." Lucky didn't waste no more time and left. Heading straight for PC High.

The music was blastin' and the kids were all on the dance floor. Nobody was standing alone, left out. Everyone was having a good time. Lucky almost regretted not coming sooner.

He pushed his way through the crowd, looking for that one familiar face. She had to be here, and yet he couldn't find her anywhere. Sacha was standing over by the bleachers grinning from ear to ear. She was never without a smile, but this was different. She couldn't contain herself. Lucky finally saw who it was she was fawning over and saw that it was Jason. His hand was pressed against the wall and he was leaning over her. Lucky almost felt like he was intruding when he walked over to them. They didn't even notice he was there until he cleared his throat.

"Have you seen Emily?"

Sacha's eyes grew at the mention of her. "Shit. I was suppose to meet her in the library. She needed to borrow my lipstick." Sacha dug through her bag to pull out the small silver container and started to walk away. Lucky stopped her. "It's okay. I'll bring it to her." Lucky said, taking the lipstick. Sacha was surprised by this. "Are you sure? I can do it. It will only take me a sec." Sacha said. Lucky looked back at Jason, who was patiently waiting for Sacha's return. "Yeah. Go back to Jason. I got it." This time Sacha looked back. Her eyes fell to the ground. Lucky was confused by her sudden shift. "What's wrong?" He asked. Not registering the fact he had lied to get out of coming to this formal with her and yet here he stood. "Nothing. Just bring Emily the lipstick."

He didn't bother to give her another look when he left, but he did feel bad. Sacha was nice. Sacha was beautiful, but Sacha was a Cassadine and he couldn't trust her.

Lucky was immediately caught off guard by the sounds coming from down the hall of the library. He got to the double doors and just listened. It was like a soft whimper, as if a small animal was whining. He pulled the door opened and took a look. Inside was no animal and the whimper was actually soft moaning. It was…. Emily.

Nikolas had her pushed up against a bookcase, her thighs firmly pressed on each side of his waist as he dug his way deeper into her.

Nikolas looked up. Their eyes met and Lucky felt like his world was collapsing just before his very eyes. He didn't know he was crying until Nikolas gave him the cruelest smirk possible. Lucky turned and ran. He ran like his feet couldn't touch the ground beneath it.

That night Emily was murdered.

 **Present day**

Sam couldn't believe any of it. It was like she had just been delivered a blow so hard it knocked the air of her lungs. The corners of her eyes stung from the forceful rubbing she did trying to keep herself from crying. It was normal for a young mother to hold some resentment toward the looming thoughts of motherhood. This was just her mother expressing her frustration, after she was born things were different, she assured herself.

Sam flipped to the next page. Already halfway through the journal and her mother's pregnancy. Alexis had talked about escaping the island in the previous entries. How she was going to leave to travel and be free of the burden that was her marriage and of her expecting child. Stefan was kind and silent. He had kept their vicious fights and Alexis powerful will to jet away, from their father, who assumed everything was going well between them. Sam could believe this about her father. He was gentle and careful. A person you could easily take advantage of. This is why she always felt like she had to protect him. He needed it. Or so she thought he did.

April 13, 1988

Today I tried to escape The Island.

I know it was foolish. I should've waited until I birth the thing and was finally free of it, so I could successfully get off this piece of rock.

But I couldn't wait. The boat that delivered our supplies for the month was sitting right there, just awaiting my desperate flee. I wasn't going to get this chance again, until after the leech was removed. Who knew what state I would be in then?

Stefan would have his precious son and I would be nothing more than a incubator for my father's lineage. Of course he was excited to get another grandson. Stavros had just come home with a three year old boy, a bastard, claiming to have fathered him. Father didn't know by whom and knowing Stavros, he didn't want to know. I have three known half brothers (probably more) : Stavros (the unhinged mama's boy), Stefan (the noble submissive son), and Valentin (the eccentric bastard). They all hate each other and vie for the love and attention of our very critical father.

Stefan wants to be different with our child. Better. What a fool.

I received a letter from Kristina earlier today, it was another incentive for me. She needs me. Father had made an agreement with King Olav V of Norway, for her hand in marriage to his fourteen year old grandson, Prince Haakon. She was merely a child, barely ten.

I mean of course the marriage would take place when she was far older, but even at ten we are handed off to men like cattle. Fathers and husbands...MEN! Always somehow have the right to decide our path. Not anymore. Not me.

So I decided to leave with the thing that made it's home within my womb, growing like a nagging weed. He wouldn't become that of a inept controlling man, deciding the fate of his wife and daughters. He won't even know he's a prince to a throne, because I will either drown him in infancy or give him to a barren childless mother, who can do for him more than I could ever….or would ever.

So when Stefan's back was turned for that minuscule of a moment I climbed from the window of our bedroom, of course one of the few without a balcony (just my luck), with our sheets and dropped to the terrace below. The thing seemed to enjoy it. It was moving like crazy, which distracted me and almost got me caught, but thankfully Stefan being his polite self, welcomed the man making the delivery into our home for some tea. So with haste I climbed over the terrace railing and got to the ground below. The grass was cool and wet underneath my bare feet. I couldn't contain myself any longer and started to run. Which is now harder to do when you're so close to giving birth, but even out of breath I was able to make it to top of the rocky cliff, that looked out over the docks below. Pebbles dug into the heels of my feet and I scraped the side of my arm on a tree trunk. I was so close I could already feel the cool clean water that waited below, but before I could dip my toes in the turquoise waters, my head was yanked back by such a force I fell backwards on my ass.

I couldn't believe it. Stefan, whipped mama's boy Stefan, was actually fuming. His hand slid across my face and I knew I was bleeding before I even felt the blood. I could smell it. He looked so scared, but more hurt than anything.

"You and this Island are my home. You're the only thing that makes sense to me."

His love was deep, twisted, and it was the only way a Cassadine knew how to love; with pain and control. We were unlovable creatures and destined for nothing more than a life of misery and destruction.

I, Natasha Alexandra Mikkosovna Cassadine, know that better than anyone. Tonight is the night I kill the bastard growing inside me and break the curse that binds me to my brother, a man I don't love nor want.

So I guess this is my final testament.

Sam shut the book and threw it across the room. Screaming with agony as she did. Her body slumped to the floor. Nothing made sense anymore. It was all a lie. Her parents' marriage, her mother's love, and maybe even her existence.

She was always told from her earliest years that she was a child conceived during a dark time, but still was very much loved. Her father filled her head with fairy tales of their unconventional life together on the island and how the sky and clouds met the earth on that very night of her birth to welcome their princess. She always felt special and cherished. Now she knew she was a burden to both her parents and that her father made the best out of a situation her mother thrusted upon him. One he welcomed naively believing it was from a place of purity and innocence.

It was the exact opposite.

There was one more page left in the journal, but Sam couldn't bear to read it. Thankfully she was distracted by a soft, yet urgent, knock on her door. She quickly wiped away her tears and cleared her voice.

"Come in." She said with a relaxed, dominance in her tone. The door opened and Sam was pleasantly surprised to see Mrs. Hurst. "Where have you been?" Sam got to her feet and pulled Mrs. H into her arms. Mrs. H was happy by this. She missed the girl as well. This was the longest they've been apart and it was only a few weeks.

"Handling business. I've been caught up on everything that's happened. Are you okay? You don't feel feverish or a cough coming on, do you?" Mrs. H asked, as she examined Sam herself. She placed the back of her hand on Sam's forehead, felt her neck for swollen lymph nodes, and even made her stick out her tongue to spot a change in coloring. "I'm fine. I promise." Sam reassured her. Mrs. H looked hesitant. Not sure if she believed her.

"Your cousin died from something that also killed several humans. You should be very wary about what's to come."

Sam shook her head. "This family is collapsing from within. We're immortal, but we aren't invincible." Sam walked passed Mrs. H and over toward her door. She took a peek out into the hall. Making sure no one was lingering. She shut the door behind her and faced Mrs. H.

"My grandfather is dead. I don't even know how, but seeing what happened to Raina, I am now suspicious. Something isn't right here." Sam knew she was onto something. She just needed to get the proof to confirm her suspicions. Mrs. H walked up to her placed and soft hand on her face. "Oh, my darling girl. Your grandfather wasn't assassinated nor did he fall from some virus." She paused. Taking her time to gather her words together. Trying to find the best way to tell Sam.

"What?"

Mrs. H raised her head to meet Sam's. "I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but your grandfather Mikkos….ran his body into the end of the sword he had in his cane, it ripped his heart from right out of his chest. He killed himself."

Irina straighten out the wrinkle in her shirt, while buttoning the last button. Her tweezers were on hand to remove the strand of hair from her eyebrow that wouldn't lay down. She plucked it quickly without even so much as a wince. Her lips were dry and so she evenly applied some dark plum lipstick. It gave the pale contrast of her face a pop. Making her eyes seem even bluer and her cheekbones even sharper. Her nails were polished a simple black, resembling her suit. She took a lint roller to her black pantsuit and smiled. She was ready.

Irina strutted down the hall from her room, feeling more confident than she had been in weeks. Today was a new day. A better one...well a better one for her. A queen was dead, as well as fellow royalty, so the humans were in a disarray and trying to make sense of it all. Her family, on the other hand, were too busy mourning the death of poor Raina Lavoisier. The daughter to a French whore and a high ranking Cassadine. Sure, she was blood, but she was nothing special. She was of a lower status than Irina and Irina was a bastard. Reuben had officially lost the last daughter to his whore wife, since Raina had now joined her twin Rhea in the Underworld. Now he was stuck choosing an heir between his painfully awkward son or incredibly timid daughter, who were both from his second wife, a Greek.

How Rhea had died should be a story told to Kristina, Irina thought. The young girl was clever and tactful. She could keep this long buried secret. A secret not even Reuben knew, but it was one that could destroy Irina if she told another. So she had to play this smart or else her life could in fact be over for even thinking to whisper this to another.

Irina was just about to enter Kristina's room when her mother showed up. "What are you doing here?" She sighed heavily, not hiding her irritation. Helena laughed. It was deep and throaty, one that captivated the sinister mood. "I know what you're up to and I'm here to tell you your plan will fail...without me. You need me." Helena placed a pointed finger under her chin. Irina shook her head. "I don't need you, crone." Irina spat. "You don't have a clue as to what I'm up to, because I'm not up to anything. You're deluded." Irina walked around her. Dusting off Helena's aura and getting her head back in the game.

"Fool." Helena said, with her back to Irina. "Do you really believe the way to the throne is through a petulant child?" Irina became hesitant. A piece of her confidence was loss. She blew her breath and rolled her eyes. "What do you know?" Helena's lips parted. A crack in her face was made and Irina assumed it was a smirk. "I know that imbecile Victor entrusted you with getting his inept ass on the throne. He was just as foolish as you are. Or…" She paused to think, letting the folds in her face shift to one of mischief. "Or, what? Finish your thought." Irina pressed. Helena knew how break the armor Irina surrounded herself with.

She loved to act resilient and nonchalant, Helena knew her child was nothing more than a scared little girl seeking out the attention and love from a father who would never truly love her. She saw the same glint of hopeful yearning in the eyes of her boys and in the bastard Valentin. Irina was no different and she will be let down in the same way they were.

"Or, he's hoping you will fail." Helena finally said. Irina looked baffled by her mother's words. "Why? Why would he want me to fail?" Irina could feel the untrusted anger in her churn. An anger she knew she couldn't started to think, really think and had to ask herself…

 _Why did he want my help?_

Spoon Island was crawling with people from the royal court, but not that of dukes and duchesses. Men in all black, with severe expressions and silent anger, were in every quarter of the large estate. Questioning staff and taking pictures of a blood stained floor.

The bodies were gone. Removed in a feverish haste. Molly stood just above them on the balcony, overlooking the ballroom. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail and her mood was foul. She was getting a headache. One with a slow painful prickly feeling that danced across her forehead. Her mind was swirling with images. Ones she couldn't decipher. Her mind was one muddled mess, it reminded her of dirty paint water. One with a mixture of colors from after cleaning off your paint brush. The water would always change from a state of clarity to that of a dark murky brownness.

That's how it was inside her head at that very moment, but that was nothing compared to the blackness. The blackness was horrible. It only happened when she saw the most painful things, like death or a new threat. That's how it was when she predicted the death at Kristina's Bacchanalia. She just didn't foretell the deaths of so many. She needed time to heal. Her head and heart hurt. She wasn't close to Raina, but she was young and didn't deserve such an awful way to die.

"What are you doing up here all alone?" Molly jumped at the sound of the voice beside her. Surprised to see the face of another. No one came up here. This was her spot. A place for her to go when the noise from others became too much to bear. "Sorry, if I scared you. I was just wondering. I'll leave you now." The young man started to backed away. She was scared by his presence, but for some odd reason wanted him to stay. "No!" Her voice rung out high. Causing her to fluster. She could tell her cheeks were blistering red, which made her even more embarrassed. She had to calm herself and in a smaller voice said, "No. You're fine." He smiled at her and chose to stay.

"I'm TJ," He introduced himself as he extended his hand toward her. She looked at it and back up at him. "And you?" She felt stupid and finally grasp his hand. "I'm Molly. Sorry, but you're the first person I've met, outside of my family and royalty. It's weird." She immediately looked away. This was becoming awkward and it was because of her. "It's cool. I mean you live in an enormous castle. Rich and beautiful. You're life, by the looks of it, must be way more exciting than mine." He said, sneaking glances at her. She looked back down at the ballroom. "Looks can be very deceiving. Wait..." Molly paused. This time she looked directly at him. "Did you just call me "beautiful"?" She swallowed the hard lump in her throat that had built up from nerves. He was about to respond when Nikolas interrupted.

"What are you doing up here, Thomas?" His voice was stern and forbidding. Molly looked up at the boy, who had to be no older than a year from her age. He was once calm and confident, but now in the presence of her cousin, he was unnerved.

"I..uh...I just wanted to look around. Sorry." His eyes dropped. Molly turned her head toward Nikolas now. He had a sneer upon his face. One filled with contempt. In that moment she felt angry. Angry at how her family felt as if others were so beneath them that nobody was good enough. Nobody other than another Cassadine that is.

Nikolas' eyes were now upon her. She felt smaller under his scrutinizing glare. "Your father came back to clean and retrieve his things. Not to go on a tour. Maybe your family should no longer work for us. I mean, since you people can't seem to grasp such simple boundaries." TJ was now shaking his head. More ashamed than ever. He knew he would have to beg to keep his father's job. "Forgive me. It was stupid. I shouldn't have wandered off. It's my fault. Take it out on me. Not my dad. I'm truly sorry." TJ felt incredibly silly. He wanted to explore the castle that was Wyndemere and came across a pretty girl. He just wanted to get to know her and for her to get to know him. She was royalty and he was nothing more than the son of chef and cop. In his world that was pretty cool, but in her world that was nothing. Now that she saw him for what he really was, she would of course feel embarrassed for even having a conversation with him. Or so he thought. Her hand fell onto his. Secretly though. They were still under the watchful gaze of Mr. Cassadine.

 _Her cautious brother? Uncle? Cousin?_

He had no idea, but he felt some relief. Only a little, because her hand had swiftly dropped back down to her side. _Was it ever there at all? Did he imagine it?_

"Well, now that this has been cleared up, you're dismissed. Tell your father he can find his check with Alfred." Nikolas said, breaking through TJ's thoughts. He nodded and left them. Too afraid to take another look back.

Molly watched him go. She lift the hand, she had use to quickly touch his,up to her face and placed it on her cheek.

 _I wonder if this is how a caress feels?_

 **The Library**

 _(located within Wyndemere)_

They all stood together, surrounded by nothing, but flickering flames. The glow from the candles bounced off the rows and rows of books that sat along the walls behind them. Each wall had a bookcase, one that stood as high as the ceiling. This place was a perfect place to call a Covenant meeting. It was tucked away in the east wing close by the cliffs on the island. It was far enough away from the prying eyes of nonmembers. It was even better to silenced the tantrum being thrown by Cressida. She was one of their younger members from the Greek division. She was around the same age as Irina, but much more high ranking. Her father was also a part of the Covenant and even he couldn't temper his child's maelstrom of emotions.

Irina rolled her eyes at the display of such childish behavior. She would never be able to get away with such antics. So she kept her composure. Waiting for the wailing to end. Cressida finally calmed herself. "Are we really going to let that little bitch become reigning queen?" Her face was red and her nostrils flared. Her father sat close by her, holding a calming hand on her shoulder.

"I'm with the child. I don't care if she was Mikkos' favorite grandchild. Her blatant disrespect for our laws mustn't go overlooked." Amelia spoke up. She waved a waxed like finger toward her grandson and he pushed her forward. Her, Cressida, and Reuben made up the Greek division. She was their oldest member, but not the oldest member there. Her grandson was being groomed to take her place. Markos was barely twenty, but already knew some of the most well kept darkest secrets that were older than him. He kept his silence as always, and that was because he was a mute. A permanently silent noble secret keeper. The child hadn't spoken a word since the battle over Santorini. One that ended in his parents' death. Irina was eight at the time. Nikolas, Sam, and her were all visiting for tutoring sessions on their Greek ancestors. Sam was very close to the then five year old Markos, he would always follow her around like a misplaced duckling. Irina saw it all. She was always the eyes and ears of such events. Simply because she wasn't anything more than a bastard. One Mikkos claimed, but it still wasn't enough for them to overlook the fact her mother had affair to match her husband's many affairs. Plus the fact he divorced her for a much younger woman, Kristin Bergman. The Swedish temptress that lured her husband away and gave him two daughters to match Helena's two sons. That was something Helena could never forgive. So much so Irina even knew her secrets.

The battle for Santorini was a dark time. Merely children they were and yet they were caught up in the mess that was a fight over a giant rock. Markos' parents had many supporters standing by them in the claim over the island. The Covenant just had more. Irina can still remember the bloody waters she dipped her feet into. Smiling to herself. She remembered feeling empowered by the carnage and bloodshed. Even growing a hankering taste for it herself."One day", she had told herself. Now, today was that day.

"We can't dissuade her from this path. She has a strong claim to the throne. We can only make sure an all out war doesn't breakout between the cousins." Malcolm, from the Americas division, said. The other two from that division nodded in agreement. The room could already tell they had chosen a side and it wasn't the side of the sworn in prince.

The Russians were the only group that stayed as silent as Markos. Never offering up a solution or inputting their own opinions on how they should handle it. They were some of the oldest in the room. Made up of Cressida's father, Dimitri and his siblings, Ivan and Maria. Known for being descendants of Ivan the Terrible, a tsar of Russia's past, and yet better known for their eternal beauty. Something Amelia ached with jealousy for. She did everything in her power to get a hold of their secret. She desired it so badly she would even kill for it.

We were immortal but we couldn't escape the decaying of our bodies. It was one of the flaws to this curse. We stayed alive for centuries, but slowly our bodies would soon catch up with time. A flaw we called it, while the creator of the curse felt it was justice.

"Let's move on. We must now discuss how the Black Death has been thrusted upon us. Last night was an assassination attempt, but on who is the question." Amelia said, letting her eyes move across the room. Looking at every single one of them in the eye.

"Are you daft?" Maria spoke, shocking them all. "We all were in attendance. We are some of the most highest ranking Cassadines and the closes person to one of us fell victim to the plague." They all looked at one another as her words sunk in. "We were who they were after. Which means it was either an enemy or family." The suspicion grew amongst them and soon would the paranoia.

Sam looked at her room one last time. Her bags were packed and she would soon be off to her next destination; Greece. One she hadn't been to in ages. She was excited, but also a bit wound tight by the anticipation of seeing familiar faces. Faces who wouldn't be too excited to see her. After the death of her best friend, Emily, she was shipped off their with Irina. While Nikolas stayed behind to court the beautiful, Britta. Her year there was one she could never forget. She was indeed a murderer and that place brought it out of her.

Her mind dismissed the past for more pressing thoughts of ones concerning the present. He was never far from her thoughts. She couldn't help, but think of where he had gone off to last night. Thankfully he did or else he could've died too. Sam reached for her phone and called Patrick. It went straight to his voicemail. She was now worried about him. He didn't look too good last night. Her mind imagined him succumbing to the virus alone in his motel room. She ended the second call to him and darted from her room. She needed to find him, but before she could come face to face with her love she ran straight into Nikolas.

"Where are you off to in such a hurry?" His eyes stared down at her with scrutiny. She didn't let his little intimidation act get to her and instead smiled. "I'm going to see Patrick before I leave. You know, on my little tour to gather as many supporters as you have...had." This got to him. His left eyelid twitched. The idea of traveling to Greece and Russia for support in her claim to the throne was disconcerting to him. He didn't have to do such a trip because he didn't have anyone here to dispute his claim, with his father's disappearance and Sam being exiled to Skye, Nikolas was clear to reign. Now that Sam was here and making a fuss, his legitimacy as an heir could soon unravel. "You have fun gathering people to stand behind you, but just know that nothing you do can stop me from being king and having you sent back to Skye to finish out your sentence." He brushed past her with a coldness. One that held all his anger and resentment. She could end his entire claim with one simple word: _bastard_. Her mother knew all this time and so did most of her family and yet they kept quiet, letting Nikolas and Stavros live like tyrants awaiting the end of Mikkos' reign so that one of them could be chosen as his successor. Her father wanted nothing to do with such a title and her uncle Valentin couldn't even act upon any wishful longings. Bastards couldn't hold claim to any royal title. Irina was able to slip through the cracks because Mikkos claimed her as his own, but being a Covenant member was as close as she would ever get to anything with power. Once Sam held the title as queen she would be untouchable and she would rather get that through a honorable campaign. So she wouldn't lower herself to Nikolas' tactics. She would be better and in the end she would win.

His motel room was empty. She went straight to the front office and asked if he checked out. Thankfully the manager was able to tell her, Patrick had paid for the room for another month. Which meant he was still there. So she of course knew where he could possibly be.

His black hair was tousled and his body was languidly lying against a boulder. She could smell the whiskey from where she was standing and immediately knew she would be dealing with another version of himself. She prepared herself before walking over to him. Thinking up all the things she was going to say to him and all things she would ask, like why did he leave her and why was he drunk today. She prayed he had some good answers. Sadly, unbeknownst to Sam he was going to respond with nothing, but the truth.

"You look like shit?" She said, kicking the empty bottle with her foot. He tilted his head to look up at her. Squinting to make out the outline of her face. He sighed and closed his eyes. "What are you doing here, Sam?" His tone was apathetic. His expression matched as well. It made her heart wince a bit. "I'm here to see you, obviously. I wanted to know why did you leave last night. I mean I'm kinda happy you ditched me. You left just in time to miss the grand finale." She did her best to sound relaxed, even though she felt nervous. Her tongue felt heavy and her mouth felt dry. Her brain was trying to tell her something, but it wasn't registering with the rest of her just yet. "Is that a euphemism for something?" Patrick reached around him for another bottle. Once he found one he took a long sip. Swishing the warm alcohol around in his mouth. "Well...I guess it is. Some of the guests died last night. I was worried you ran off because you felt ill. I kept imagining you here, all alone, dying. My heart broke and I was scared." She couldn't believe how honest she was being in this very moment, but she knew he needed to hear this and she needed to say this. "I was scared because I didn't think I would be able to see you again or even be able to tell you that….that I loved you. It sounds weird saying it cause I don't know what love is. I thought I did years ago and I was wrong. But with you it's different. I think this could actually be it." She was quiet now. Feeling relieved to have finally told him and excited about where they would go from here.

"You should've came, Sam. This isn't going to work." Patrick stood. He was facing her, but he wasn't looking at her. His eyes were focused on the slow lapping tides that rolled up the beach. The air was cold, making her shiver and then she realized it was colder because of him. "I don't understand. What happened last night? Because last I checked we were doing fine. I, maybe foolishly, believed we were e doing great." Her words were coming out slow and her tongue now felt like it weighed a solid pound. He was distant and she felt alone.

"What happened was I had a panic attack and that panic attack killed all those people." He now looked at her. His eyes were filled with tears, but they were staring at her with such a hardness she had to look away. She didn't move to comfort him or even away. She wanted to understand what he meant, but was also too afraid to touch him. "I don't understand."

"I'm cursed, just like you're cursed. Except I won't be able to live an infinite amount of years as some pretty royal doll. No. My family is forced to live out our mundane lives as human plagues. You've heard of the plague doctors, I assume?" She simply nodded. She had heard stories of men dressed in all black with masks resembling birds, spouting out nonsense of how to cure plagues. They were nothing more than con artists preying on the desperate and hopeless for a quick buck. It worked.

"Well my great-great-great-great grandfather was an infamous plague doctor. He was notorious and most parts of Europe for curing people with deception and trickery. He wasn't even an actual doctor. Just a drunken thief, who couldn't make it as anything else." His story sounded familiar, but she was having a difficult time placing where she had heard such a familiar one from.

"He then came across a noble family. One as wealthy as God, himself. A plague had struck their village and made its way up to the noble family. Their patriarch fell ill and my grandfather tried to use oils and plants to cure him. Telling the king's wife, she would soon have a healthier husband, but he was really just planning on robbing them when they slept. Too bad for him that the man died in his sleep that night. His wife, the queen, placed a cursed onto his unborn son right before she had him burned alive. One that would pass from father to son and so on. Walking plagues, we are." The story was starting to finally make sense. Sam now took a step back. "Aishe...cursed him, didn't she? Just like she cursed her son Vladimir, my great-great-great-and who knows how many more greats, grandfather." Her heart fell further into her chest. Her world was spinning. This couldn't be happening.

"Viktor the Victorious, also known as Viktor Cassadine was dead and my grandfather helped get him there."

Tears swelled in her eyes.

"Just like I was suppose to kill you last night." His voice cracked. "I don't love you. I can't because I was sent here to kill you." And just like that her heart was broken all over again. This time it felt like death would be an easier way out then facing the morning sun and having to relive his words in her head over and over again. Being immortal wasn't a beautiful story of a alluring mysterious creature in need of love, but a torturous one that would relive every painful heartache for centuries and centuries to come.


	11. Chapter 11

**THIS IS SIMPLY THE BEGINNING**

She was gone. He didn't know how to cope with this. The nightmares got worse since her departure. He told himself that it was just the guilt amplifying since he no longer had a distraction to prolong the memories, but that wasn't true. When he was with Sam the guilt was still there, faintly, but still there nevertheless. He just didn't feel like a terrible person with her. She made him feel alive. A feeling he had thought was long gone outside of all the drugs he used to get high. Now without her, he was like a shadow leeching off the living. Following those that surrounded him like some lost black void with no true sense of direction. He was indeed in a very bad place and Kaz Krsnik wasn't helping.

"What's your problem, Patrick?" Kaz couldn't hide the smile forming on his face. He did try with his napkin, but that somehow made it even more condescending. "I thought you would be happy by Samantha's absence. You know, having one less person in your path that you might potentially kill, is a good thing." He was intentionally pushing his buttons. Kaz wanted to get a rise out of him. Patrick knew Kaz was upset that he told Sam about his own tragic curse. It was his secret to tell, but now that Sam knew she would wonder and that would lead her to discovery. Kaz didn't want that. Patrick wasn't truly sure what his plans were, but he knew whatever they were they weren't good. Death and pain were his agenda. They always were. "She just might be the only person I can't kill and because of you I've lost her." Patrick said, throwing down his napkin on the plate of untouched eggs and sausage. Kaz raised his fork in Patrick's direction. "Don't do that. Don't blame me for your actions. I didn't force you to do anything. I simply requested." Kaz dropped his fork back down into his vegetarian omelet. "A request from you might as well be considered a demand. Let's not pretend like I had any real choice in the matter." Patrick waved over the waitress for the bill. "Oh, come on. Don't be like that. We've been friends for a very a long time now. We do each other favors, like my favor with your father." He taunted. Patrick grinded his teeth. He hated when he did that. Kaz knew the subject of his father was a sore one, but he knew he could use it to win any argument. "Speaking of him. How is my dear old uncle doing?" Patrick hated to think about him, but he couldn't help it in this very moment. The man was more of a parasite then Patrick was. He made sure that Janet, his nurse, never called him unless it was important.

 _Why won't he die already?_

"He's fine." Patrick answered begrudgingly. _Better than yours_ , he silently added. Kaz grinned. "Aren't you just the grateful one."

 **Athens, Greece**

 _A war was upon them. Vladimir, betrayed and thirsty for blood, tore villages apart. His mother lay at his feet, wan and lifeless, her corpse already putrefying. Some say she went quicker than a normal body because of her magick. It was believed that all the power within her was now consuming the flesh._

 _But either way Vladimir didn't care. To him "the gypsy bitch was dead", which was another victory in his books. His bitterness came from belief that she always loved Sandor more. He was right. She did in fact love her firstborn more, but that mere fact didn't make her a bad mother, just a fallible one._

 _Now with her gone and Vladimir cursed as an immortal creature, a upir, by her own hands, he was the most fearsome thing on this earth. He wasn't crippled by the fear of death, instead he embraced it and became the thing people feared the most. The_ _ **Bogeyman.**_

"Omg! Molly stop. I really don't want to hear anymore." Kristina plugged her ears with her earphones. Molly softly laughed. "It's just a story about our ancestor. I'm just trying to learn everything before we touch down." Molly turned to her right. "Sam doesn't mind. Do you, Sam?" Sam sighed. Her eyes fluttered opened and she smiled. "No, Molly. I don't mind at all." She said, staring out into the waning sky. She couldn't believe it when Molly begged her to take her. It was completely unexpected and a shock, but she couldn't stop herself from agreeing. Of course when Kristina heard about this she insisted on going as well.

" _I can't leave my sister alone with you."_

Was her exact words. Sam wasn't mad by the implication she made, she was just happy both her sisters were coming with her to tour the other divisions. She wasn't alone. For the first time in a decade she wasn't separated from her family. Sure they didn't trust or really like her, but this was a start.

Molly leaned over to look out the window and her eyes grew three times its size. "It's so beautiful." She gasped. She had never been off that damn island they were thrusted upon from birth. Spoon Island was all she knew since infancy. She could walk each and every part of that island blindfolded. She knew every inch of it. Sheltered her and Krissy were. Kristina only leaving once to go to New York, which is how she meant and courted Philip. Funny, how they were such an aristocratic family with influences spreading all throughout Europe, and yet still kept their women to the breast. Never giving them the chance to explore. As if at the first chance they got they would escape them. Then again, they would. Their mother had tried to escape their clutches many times and then Sam. Kristina and Molly just wasn't as bold. That would change.

"There's nothing spectacular about Greece." Kristina tilted her head back and shut her eyes. She kept up the appearance that she was indifferent to the whole journey, but at times Sam even spotted her sneaking peeks out the window. "Whatever, Krissy. This place is one so rich of history and magick. Plus it's so romantic. Right, Sam?" Molly said, mesmerized by the lapsing hues of blue and purple as the sky darkened. Sam smiled and turned her head to look too. "Yes. Yes it is." Kristina rolled her eyes and turned to look herself. "I received my first kiss here. I was thirteen or fourteen and it was during the summer. He was a boy from one of the smaller towns. He was quite handsome." Sam told them, reliving the memory. Molly yearned for such an interaction. She personally wanted it to be the cook's son, TJ. There was just something about him that she couldn't shake. Something good.

"Is he dead?" Kristina asked, now facing Sam. Sam was confused by her question. "What? Of course not. Why would he be dead?" Kristina sat up and in return Molly sat back. She was now getting annoyed by Krissy's presence. "I mean you do leave behind a wake of bodies. I wouldn't be surprised if he was just another casualty." Sam was hurt by that statement. She couldn't deny it. Kristina knew how to get under skin and dig her nails onto her exposed flesh. Kristina reminded her so much of herself when she was sixteen. That dark period of her life. One she tried so hard to forget, but now that they were heading to Santorini that would be an impossible task. She secretly wished Patrick was here with them. He would have made the trip more enjoyable, but learning the truth of his motives changed her feelings for him. She prayed they never meant in this life or the next ever again.

 **Spoon Island**

The house was quiet. A little too quiet for his comfort. Which was kinda funny since he lived a life of silence. Stefan paused when he got to her room, his deceased wife's. He would laugh if he could, but all his joy was taken the day his tongue was removed. What he would laugh about was the fact that Natasha was never his wife. A partner in their shared belief their daughter should be crowned over their nephew, sure, but they were never more than that. She was his best friend and the mother of his child, because of that he had never exposed the truth that Molly and Kristina weren't his. It didn't matter to him, honestly. He loved them as if they were his own and nothing else mattered.

Secrets were all they knew. She had so many he could hardly keep up, but she trusted him enough to willingly share them. So when it came time to testify against her, he refused and because of that refusal they gave Nikolas the honor to dismember him. Which he was fine with. He would rather die than ever confess to their sins and expose their treachery. Whether he had a hand in her schemes or not, they were a team. One he so badly missed. Stefan ran his hand along the wood of the vanity, his beloved use to sit before. Her room was trapped in a time capsule of when she was still with them. He made sure to preserve her legacy. She had fought so hard to leave behind a mark on this world. He wouldn't let her down now.

He raised the tips of his index and middle finger to his lips. Gently kissing them and then bringing them back down to the black wood. He hadn't noticed it before, but the smallest draw that had been locked was now cracked opened. Fear consumed him. He immediately pulled opened the drawer and was slowly eaten by the unnerving anxiety from knowing Natasha's journal was missing. There were secrets in there that even he was too ashamed to ever relive. Ones he promised to keep buried.

 _How could I fail you so greatly in this way, my love?_

As always there was nothing more than silence. He always called out to her. Needing her guiding words in this very moment, but of course she wasn't here. Her soul was damned to burned for the rest of her eternity. Something he would never get past. He took a deep breath and retraced his steps back out her room. Slowly closing the door behind him as he did. For a second he swore he could almost hear her haughty laughter and so he whispered, "Goodbye, my love."

Nikolas wasn't hard to find. He was talking with a few of his advisors with the presence of Irina and Helena. Stefan of course had to bring Kris with him. No one other than Molly and Kris knew enough of sign language to be able to decipher his hand movements. So he needed her. Thankfully she hadn't left to be with her husband and children. For some reason she was bound to the island. She stayed even when her presence wasn't truly needed or even wanted at times. Though he was still very much grateful.

"Oh great, it's the mute and the redheaded stepchild. How can I help you both?" Nikolas mocked. Helena loved to watch her grandson's wicked tongue work. He was almost as good as she was with words. Almost.

Kris stepped forth. She was feeling the heat of their scrutinizing eyes. She sighed and spoke up. "Stefan just wanted to know if anyone had been in Natasha's room? Some things have been removed." She explained. Suddenly their eyes were all on Stefan, who now stood boldly before them. Nikolas cracked a smirk. "Why would I ever take a step in that whore's room? Or even take anything from it?" His words cold and cruel, caused a long ago doused out fire slowly to smoulder within Stefan. The lack of respect Nikolas had for him, his wife, and their children were demeaning. He was growing wary of the child's arrogant ways. Stefan made a quick hand movements to Kris, who nodded and look back at the small crowd. They were growing rather irritated and impatient with Stefan's nonsense. Nikolas was going over plans to make sure that he secured his claim and that Sam was once again be exiled. He had no time for this. "Well someone did go into Natasha's room and he wants to know who?" Kris repeated, slowly growing apprehensive by the tension she was submerged in. Nikolas blew his breath and threw the papers he was holding onto down. "Maybe your children had something to do with that, alright?" Kris moved to Stefan's side. Placing a reassuring hand on his arm. "He's probably right. Let's go." She whispered, hoping to get her brother to leave. "I mean, maybe one of them wanted to learn firsthand on what an duplicitous hag their mother really was. Since nobody really knew who she was to begin with."

The spark was now fully lit and burning.

Instead of leaving with Kris, Stefan shook her grasp off of him. The next thing he signed was one he did deliberately and carelessly. Kris inhaled sharply. Noticing her reaction Nikolas instantly turned to her. "What did he say?" He needed to know and she wasn't too keen on sharing. "Tell me what he said!" His outburst made her jump. She took a deep breath and repeated what her brother foolishly signed to her. "He said, umm...Maybe if you weren't a bastard you would have a stronger claim and his "duplicitous hag" of wife wouldn't have been able to...um…outsmart you. You're just a spoiled weakling that will never amount to anything in your immortal life. And um...your hubris will ultimately be your downfall." Kris dropped her eyes to the ground. Irina snickered. "Did he really just say all that with just few hand gestures? Wow. Impressive." Kris was about to nod in agreement with Irina, when Nikolas leaped across the desk he was standing behind. He pulled the sword he had hanging along the wall down. Extending it toward Stefan. The tip of the blade was so close to Stefan's neck, he could feel it digging into his skin.

"Those are some great accusations, Stefan. I hope you have proof or else that type of treason could get you hanged," One of Nikolas' advisors spoke first. He couldn't die from hanging, but the pain of being strangled over and over again was extremely painful. Then the time without blood, since you weren't fed, could drive any person mad. "You take that back." Tears brimmed on the edges of his eyes. His face was the color of blood from the anger that had rose when hearing the word "bastard". A secret no one knew outside of Stefan, Mikkos, Helena, Natasha, Stavros and of course himself. Now with Natasha and Mikkos dead, and Stavros gone, it was only three people who knew. They were all standing in this very room. "Kneel before your sworn in prince and beg for forgiveness." Nikolas said each word slow and carefully. The sword still digging into Stefan's throat. Kris ran to Nikolas' side, now grabbing his arm hoping he would see reason.

"He's just upset. Let it be and drop the damn sword, Nikolas."

"You better listen to the good doctor, Nikolas. I mean it's not like you have the balls to really do it." Irina said, trying her best to provoke him. Kris glared at her. Irina would love to see them all at each other's throats until they killed one another. She wouldn't let her get that satisfaction. Kris placed her hand on his wrist. Applying a small amount of pressure so he would lower the weapon. "I'll lower my weapon when my good uncle begs for my forgiveness." Nikolas raised the sword higher. His grip on it was firm and unyielding. Kris let her eyes follow along the edge of the very sharp blade up to Stefan's face. Her eyes pleaded with him to do the smart thing and beg. She wished for him to push aside his stubbornness and pride for just this once.

Stefan saw in Kris' eyes the burning desire for him to give in and bend to the sword. He also saw something surprisingly different in those eyes. Eyes he knew all his life, were now suddenly a stranger. Stefan turned his eyes from Kris to Nikolas. He was waiting for Stefan to drop to that knee so he could finally get that satisfying gratification of being higher rank. Something he didn't deserve. So Stefan would not kneel before the arrogant bastard, nor would he admit to any wrongdoing. Stefan walked right into the sharpened blade letting it tear into his flesh and painting the steel blade with a scarlet coat. Nikolas once firm grip now faltered. He dropped the sword to his side. Stefan, feeling more fearless than he had in years, turned to leave. They all watched as he swiftly made his exit. He strode out of the room, leaving behind a seething Nikolas.

Once gone Nikolas impaled the rug with the sword, bellowing as he did. "You should've done that to Stefan." Irina muttered. Nikolas whipped around. His eyes wild and unfocused. "Get out! All of you!" He shouted so loudly the paintings on the wall shook. "I wouldn't dare leave you, my son." Helena walked toward him. The rest of them scurried from the room. Irina was a bit slower. She took great satisfaction in seeing him like this. It gave her a victorious feeling. She had not yet usurped the throne from under his large ass, but this was good enough for now. Knowing more embarrassments was coming also gave her pleasure.

He hated them all. Merely for the fact they were all witnesses to his embarrassment. When Helena got to him, he slapped her arms. "Leave, grandmother!" He demanded. Pushing her aside he went over to his desk. Helena dropped her arms and turned to face his slumped back. "I didn't raised a weakling or some whiny insufferable child. The wheels are now turning in their heads on your legitimacy. Are you just going to stand for that? Are you going to let Sacha win? You know, the woman who drained your son dry and then dropped his lifeless corpse with no remorse?" Her words hit him. He raised his head a bit. Sam and her sisters had gone to gain support from the other divisions, while he foolishly stay on this desolated little island. It hadn't taken her long to get Molly to soften to her side. He knew she wasn't truly there yet, but Molly was weak she would give in sooner rather than later. Kristina was more tenacious than her baby sister. She would hold in her fight against Sam, but for how long? Sam was their sister and she was extending that olive branch. It wouldn't take Sam long to get both of them on her side. So the other divisions and Covenant would be nothing to get control of. He was seeing the collapse of his future empire and dynasty.

He wouldn't let that be his future. She wouldn't take what was rightfully his. He was the son of the firstborn heir and in the past that use to mean something. Now they all clung to that bitch, they saw as a God reborn. There was a power inside her and he saw it. They all did. He didn't understand it, nor did he trust it. He had the people backing him after she fucked up and got herself exile. Now with her return they're weakening. No one truly cared about his son's death, but only in the fact she became stronger from it. You would think family meant something to these people, but he learned it didn't.

Power.

Power is what they crave. Power is what they believe in and power will decide his fate. Whether he has enough of it to ousted the crown from his cousin was something he would soon find out.

 _She doesn't deserve it._

 _She will destroy us and our family._

 _Will you really let her take what's yours?_

His mind whispered to him like an howl from the wind. The longer he stood there the louder it got. He turned to see Helena still standing in place, waiting on his response. He now knew what he had to do. "Get the jet ready for tomorrow night. Set its course for Greece. If she's going to fight for her claim, then so am I." Helena walked over to her grandson. Brushing her lips onto his. "That's the man I raised."

 **The Floating Rib**

 _(back alley)_

Amanda Huxley carried the two large bags of garbage over to the dumpster. Her phone had been vibrating all night and she tried to do her best to ignore it. It was her sorry excuse of a boyfriend, trying to do his best to explain why he was at her best friend's place at 1 am. She knew what he was doing. It was a tiresome hurtful game he did. They get back together after he cheats, he promises to be a better man, the honeymoon phase was always so vibrant, and then she would find something to hint to the fact he was sleeping with another woman.

She was tired. So this time it would be the last. She was done with his bullshit. Tonight she would end it for good. She pulled the phone out from her back pocket. "It's over. No. I'm not going to listen to what you have to say. We're done." She pressed the end call button. After that she felt a wave of relief. It was as if a heavy burden had been lifted off of her, freeing her for something better. Something possibly great. Amanda was only nineteen, her life was just beginning. She smiled. She hadn't realize she was crying until the man in the alley offered her a tissue from his pocket.

Amanda jumped, frightened by his presence, but not afraid of his him. She knew him. He was one of their regulars. "I'm sorry if I frightened you. Is everything alright?" He asked, giving her a gentle smile. She returned it and accepted the tissue he offered. Letting her heartbeat slow down and using the tissue to dab underneath her eyes, she responded, "Yeah. Just had to take out the trash. Literally and figuratively speaking." She laughed gingerly. He nodded, amused by her. He almost felt bad about what he was going to do. Almost.

"Why are you out here?" Amanda asked innocently, as she took a step forward to the back door of her job. She didn't noticed the shift in him. She was still so trusting and naive. So when the moment came for him to slit her throat, she didn't see that either.


End file.
